


Odd Eye.

by arurun



Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Corruption, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Golden Age of Piracy, Heterochromia, Nakamaship, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Physical Disability, Prosthesis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23668963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arurun/pseuds/arurun
Summary: Takara's life began with a broken spine and a kid with colour-changing eyes. Then came the bear, and somehow, the island's on fire.If he has to deal with this brat, maybe he'll make it everyone's problem instead.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. mundane (calm before the storm)

**Author's Note:**

> **Even with a metal spine, Takara lives.**
> 
> **Being the experimental subject of an eccentric professor, he tries to become one of the many civilians in the island. It's working.**
> 
> **It's working, until it isn't.**
> 
> -
> 
> An Original Pirate Crew fanfiction.

Takara’s life began with a broken spine and a kid with colour-changing eyes.

And rehabilitation. Lots of rehabilitation.

He looked like he got smashed into a thousand rocks then dropped from a Sky Island and lived, and he had all the shattered bones in his body to prove it. Some old coot from the corner of the island thought him interesting, picked him up, and fixed him up. 

Living life with a metal skeleton wasn’t too hard once you got used to it. People stared, he overheated a lot, the limbs creaked with every step, and he needed a good oiling around every few days, but this beats dying by a long shot. 

How such technology existed in West Blue, Takara really wasn’t about to question it. He was an experiment, and an experiment of the Professor he will be.

-

Now, about the kid with colour-changing eyes.

The moment Takara’s surgery scars healed and he got used to the lumpy metal parts, he had dragged the boy into a bath house and scrubbed fossils of dirt off their skins (seriously, is this kid a human or a gorilla? How could the Professor just let the kid live in the jungle?) before clothing him in something more decent to wear.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Cross!”

“Hi there Cross, my name is Takara. Nice to meet you.”

“Nais tu meat-chu? Meat?”

“It’s something you say to people when you first meet them.”

“Nice to meet yu! Nice to meet’chu!”

“Yes, yes.”

A loose, hooded sweater and a pair of shorts. It was going to be winter soon and jungle boy or not, this kid needed to stay warm! 

Takara had a decent amount of allowance on him (Professor was rich despite living in some rusty shed) and he was going to use it if it meant getting this kid something other than torn boxers to cover himself.

Cross was a little ball of sunshine, really.

His hair was black, and his eyes were mirroring shades of gray. Sometimes, his left eye would shine blue, and his smile would brim a little more sinister, but aside from that, he was a normal child like any other.

Except for the fact that he lived in the jungle, of course.

-

Takara got himself a coat, and successfully set himself back into civilisation by making small talk with the people of the town, introducing himself and telling them where he stayed.

“With the Professor?” someone repeated back at him, alarmed, “from the looks of it, you’re his next victim, eh? No offense of course, kid.”

Takara laughed it off.

(The Professor was an eccentric man. No one knew where he came from or what he was intending on doing, settling down in the corner of the island, but everyone seemed to be friendly.)

“Hey, mister,” a young girl, probably five or six, came closer to his steel ankle, “is this thing inside your leg? Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Now, Nene, that’s rude to ask. Don’t bother the young man,” her mother chastised, picking up her daughter and sending a pitiful glance at Takara.

Takara faltered.

In a normal situation, this would classify him as a disabled man, wouldn’t it? Having four metal prosthetics…

“It’s okay,” he said, hoping his smile looked kind enough, “it doesn’t hurt anymore. It looks cool, doesn’t it?”   
And the girl, despite her mother’s reprimanding, brightened considerably. “Uhn!” she cheered, “it’s so shiny, like a robot!”

Takara gave the girl a high-five, and waved at her as she left with her mother.

Civilisation was going to be hard, with all these metal parts, and Takara felt a little more sullen each time he thought of it. Maybe he could live it out like this, just running errands for the professor and living on this island without much meaning to himself.

But then, what was the point?

(No… he didn’t need a point.)

His name is Takara. Whoever he was before he was Takara-- that person was dead. His meaning now was with the Professor, to whom he owed his life and his everything to.

He didn’t need a new goal.

Well, at least he didn’t think so.

-

“Takara! Takara! This is Umma!”

Cross had cozied up to the man enough to drag him into the jungle, where he presumably lived. Turns out that the Professor wasn’t  _ allowing _ the child to roam the jungle, the child never lived with the Professor to begin with.

And here Cross had brought him to a den. 

A bear’s den.

Pointing grandly at the old grizzly and beaming brightly, Takara was tugged forward presumably to bond with… Umma.

“Uhm… nice to meet you,” he said, body stiff and limbs straight with fear-- “my name is Takara, I have been in Cross’ care.”

To Takara’s horror, Cross leapt into the bear, nuzzling up to the fur and cuddling with the great and dangerous beast. And the beast was nuzzling back? Holy  _ crap _ .

“Umma! Umma, so humans said ‘nice to meet you’ when they see new humans!” Cross began to ramble the bear like a child excited to tell his mother about his day, “that’s what Takara told me!”

The bear let out a gruff noise at that, and nodded its head at Takara.

Takara was going to assume that meant she wasn’t going to eat him yet.

“Umma is the mommy of the forest!” Cross spread his arms and declared pridefully.

Oh.

So the bear is his mother.

Makes sense.

(No it doesn’t.)

-

“Oh my god, what did you do, Cross?”

Takara was officially Cross’ babysitter and he hated the job with a burning, boiling passion.

The island had a lot of trees. I mean, it’s famous for being a key source of fruit production in West Blue-- even nobles buy from this island and the World Government has a monopoly on the market of fruit from Moribakari Island-- but okay, that’s not the point.

The point is, “this durian tasted bad,” Cross said, holding up a red spiky shell with blue, swirly flesh that he probably took a bite out of and threw away.

Takara wanted to cry.

“That’s not a durian,” he tried to say, “Cross, you’ve lived in this forest for how many years, you should know that they’re supposed to be  _ green and yellow _ .”

Cross blinked up at him. He looked between the red durian and Takara, then at another durian on the ground a few paces away.

“Oh,” he said.

Takara bonked him over the head, “you moron!”

-

Umma was the Lord of the Forest, and this island being what it was, that was a very grand feat. She was a bear, but she was wise. And much more than anything, she was a mother.

Takara curled into her fur, tears dried at his cheeks, and let the bear’s steady breathing soothe him out of his nightmares.

Sometimes, when the pain of his metal joints gets a little too hard to bear, he would come here. He would bury himself in the unconditional love Umma would give him, and he basked in the gentle pull of the forest.

At some point, Takara realized that he got adopted.

-

“Takara, could you help us out here?”

The people in the city were nice.

Takara’s limbs would act up every once in a while, but when they could work, they were superb. It gave him strength beyond an average man, and stability more assuring than any man-made lever.

Wanting to assimilate back into human society (and wanting to rely less on Professor’s apparently inexhaustible allowance every month) Takara worked in the construction site every once in a while.

“This thing collapsed last night, and we just aren’t sure which to pick up first.”

The whole chaotic mass of lumber, steel, and miraculously intact glass was held in a strange, half-suspended shape caused by levity and gravity. 

Takara tapped twice at the scar by his left eye, and his iris gleamed with a wave of green binary codes, scanning the sight before him and calculating the best course of action with a series of mathematical and physical information.

“We’ll have to sacrifice at least one of those glass pieces-- maybe the one down there,” Takara muttered to the man, “that pipe’s busted, so we have to give up on that one. The wood under it will need to be last.”

The man hummed in consideration at that. “That sounds good enough. What do you have in mind?”

“Well-- first we need to hold those two up, and slide the first glass pane out from there--”

His left eye, another part of him lost to his initial injury, was replaced with a robotic glass eye that could fulfill many things-- x-ray vision, identification, metal detecting-- again, Takara wasn’t going to ask how the Professor even made this. He was just going to live with it and hope it wouldn’t blow up on him one day.

-

“Come back here, Cross! You are putting on your shoes right this instant!”

“No! Don’t wanna! They’re heavy!”

“You have a feetful of blisters! If they get infected, your feet will rot and fall off!”

“No they won’t!”

“Yes they will!”

Takara's day begins with chasing a kid across the forest and making him put on shoes. After a while, his red jacket was stained with mud and water, but the kid didn't mind it. At least he was keeping them on. But  _ shoes _ , the kid hated shoes with a burning passion.

"They're heavy!"

"You'd wear down anything less durable in two seconds, with how you usually run!"

"Then I'm fine without shoes!"

"You are  _ not _ !!"

Takara’s known the kid for about three months at this point. He just knows that the kid is a ball of endless energy and Takara’s strained limbs can never catch up to whatever parkour skills this kid has ingrained in his soul.

Especially after he ate that pain-in-the-ass fruit.

“Tag Tag,” Cross touched the tree, and a red handprint planted itself on the bark of the tree. He touched another one, “Catch me if you can!”

And he vanished.

He teleported behind Takara, a ways away, laughing. Takara skidded to a stop, turned around, and chased-- only for the kid to reappear at the front again, making mocking faces.

“Goddamn it Cross!” Takara yelled at him, “this is bully culture!”

“Takara is the bully!” Cross yelled back, “you make me wear  _ shoes _ !”

“It’s  _ self-care!! _ ”

The Tag-Tag fruit, which allows the user to essentially teleport between two to three ‘tagged’ spots. The mark doesn’t disappear until he wills it to.

Takara groaned. 

His limbs were already starting to hurt from the strain. He still wasn’t capable of more than an hour of strenuous activity a day. Sitting down on the grass, he put Cross’ boots on the side and picked something out from his bag.

A crossbow he had been building.

“Are you not gonna catch me anymore?” Cross hollered from a distance.

“I’ll get you eventually, Cross,” Takara hollered back. He loaded the arrow on the bolt and set it on his arm, attaching it to a metal bolt on his forearm. 

Bending his elbow around a few times, he tucked it in, raised it-- and tested how it felt.

“It’s a little tight. Maybe I’ll ask Professor for some ideas,” he muttered to himself, keeping his arm high and testing the aim.

“Hey, Takara, what are you-- UGWAAH!!”

Cross had suddenly emerged right where Takara had his crossbow pointed. So Takara did the logical thing and pulled the trigger.

The arrow caught the boy on the shirt, near his shoulder, and embedded itself into the tree bark. 

There’s a second as the situation sunk in.

“Wait, Takara, don’t--”

Without another second to hesitate, Takara loaded three more arrows and shot them so they pinned the boy to the tree firmly by all the loose parts of his clothing. 

“Finally caught you, you cheeky brat,” Takara grinned devilishly.

Cross whimpered in defeat.

-

“Takara! Takara! C’mon, c’mon!”

It was a bright and very happy day for both of them, the day Umma finally gave birth to a litter of cubs. They were all so little, so tender, and so precious as the mother bear nursed them, and they began to learn how to live and breathe.

“This is Sori, this one is Hanu, this one is Yuen,” Cross listed them off quickly and without a miss in his beat.

“Wait-- are you naming them?” Takara asked.

“No!” Cross denied quickly, “Umma named them! I’m just telling you cos you can’t hear her!”

Pause. And Play.

“You can  _ understand _ her?!” Takara gawked, disbelief clear across his face, “how?”

Cross grinned almost mischievously, “because Umma can speak inside my head!”

Takara absolutely did not understand, but he let it be in lieu of Umma’s knowing glance in his direction. It was amazing enough that he was able to get this close to a mother bear and her cub.

He thought he had gone through all of the surprises about Umma by now, but well, guess there was a new surprise every day.

“What’s this one’s name?” Takara crouched down, pointing at the littlest one at the end of the row, one that Cross hadn’t named for Takara yet.

And Cross ran a gentle hand over the cub’s form-- it was so tiny, it fit snugly at the size of Cross’ hand. Was it premature?

“Umma says that she’ll give this one to us.”

“Oh… wait, huh?”

When Takara looked over again, Cross’ left eye shone blue, in contrast to its usual dull gray. 

Of course, the boy himself didn’t notice-- but once Takara saw it, he gasped in surprise and tried not to make a sound, as if the special colour was a butterfly that would fly off and disappear if he startled it.

“It’s too weak, so it won’t survive in the wild. Umma says she’ll let us raise it, under the protection of humans,” Cross explained, “so, we can name it if we want.”

Takara blinked. Such was the cruelty of life in the wild-- so this little cub was deemed unfit for life, even though it was just born. Its mother didn’t want it. 

But that was okay. 

Takara wasn’t fit for life either, and yet here he was.

(He felt so emphatic for the pitiful little creature.)

“Guess it’s time to learn how to be a Dad, Cross,” Takara joked.

“Sure is,” Cross agreed, a smile lifting onto his expressions.

When Cross blinked again, the blue was gone, and his eyes were gray again.

It was a strange sight, really. Did that eye change according to his mood? Or were there perhaps some other criteria in the background the Takara wasn’t catching? 

It was a very beautiful shade of blue.

Takara hoped he could see it again.

-

"Cross, give me one reason I shouldn't be angry right now."

Cross spun around, looking positively scandalised. He held a hand to his chest, as if he was physically hurt by the reprimanding tone.

Behind him, the baby bear slept soundly in a little mountain of gold, jewellery, and money. 

"But he  _ likes  _ it," Cross insisted, tears prickling at the edge of his eyes, "you're going to take away his  _ dream _ ??"

Takara slammed a fist on the boy's head. 

“Tell me again, Cross,” he was positively pissed, with how low his tone was going, “where did all that gold come from?”

Cross sniffled, nursing a huge bump on top of his head, “from that ship on the port,” he whined, “but they left their treasure alone! That means I can take it!”

“No it does  _ not _ !!”

Takara set a palm on his face. Goodness, he left the kid with the bear for one week and suddenly the bear has a bed more expensive than the Professor’s shed.

“But he was just staring at em like he really wanted those shiny, shiny things!” Cross sounded something short of straight out crying at this point, “I think he likes treasure! So I gave him some.”

Takara let out a strangled, dying noise.

“We’re going to raise a  _ money-addicted _ bear, this is absolutely fucking perfect,” he swore, looking up to the sky and covering his face with his hands, “okay then. This is fine.”

Cross braced himself for another punch, but it didn’t come.

Instead, Takara sat down beside him, and began to fiddle with a strange metal contraption he was working on.

“Listen here, Cross,” Takara adjusted the holster, “I’m gonna open your eyes to the amazing world of thievery.”

-

They were a strange combination.

Pseudo-cyborg and jungle-boy, both who looked human but could barely be ethically classified as such. Cross seemed to stick to Takara very often, and like a child (he looked like a teenager, but acted so much younger) he was curious about everything. 

Cross began to learn mannerisms, names, and foods-- and in turn, Takara learned how to cross jungles, how to climb and step while making as little noise as possible, as well as which animals or plants were edible to hunt.

Takara wondered if Cross was the Professor’s experiment too, but he didn’t quite find the time or opportunity to ask. Maybe their relationship itself was an experiment, and the Professor was simply taking jottings of how they interacted every day.

That was their life, for nearly three years.

Thinking back, Takara knew this would happen one day. Experiments, though long, were made to end. Perhaps, that was what happened to him. To them. 

Three years later, the Professor set the island on fire.

Without a word to Takara or Cross, without a note or a reason or even a trace of where he’d gone, the Professor burned down the forests and the towns, and ran away by boat before anyone even traced the source back to him.

Leaving behind Takara, who had no idea where to go from here.


	2. hanging on (head towards the light)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They leave the island.
> 
> Infamous for something they never intended to do, they pick up the pieces and begin to take steps forward. It's time for independent travels.
> 
> Decision are made. Preparations go on.

Cross' eyes were usually gray. In fact, they were both gray so often, Takara often forgot that the boy’s eyes could change colours.

Take now for instance.

They were on a little one-cabin fishing boat, caked in mud, soaked in ash, with burns on their skin. Moribakari island burned, flames rising high into the sky and painting the sky a shade of hell. Smoke bloated in the air and the green of the forest creaked and broke apart.

Cross' eyes were a mismatched shade of blue and gray, and he stared at the scene almost reverently, not saying a thing.

It was like he was trying to sear the image into his eyes, into his core, so he'd never forget it, ever.

In the boy's arms, a grizzly cub whimpered, dull eyes watching the scene as if he understood what was going on there. As if he could really comprehend that right now, his family was dead, his home was gone, and he was now all alone.

Takara prodded at a green gem between his fingers. It was something Umma had held onto, something that, according to Cross, was like a blessing of the forest, a treasure she guarded as holy. And now, her only surviving cub would have to inherit it.

“I’m glad we were able to bury Umma before we left,” Takara said, trying to be sympathetic.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t hurt at this. It wasn’t as if he didn’t feel awful, disappointed-- he wanted to scream out, cry, and ask why this had to happen.

(Why would the Professor leave us?)

(Why did they find Umma on the forest ground, stabbed many times by what was evidently a human knife?)

(Why did, whoever that was, kill all the other cubs too?)

There were so many questions, and no answers. Takara was overwhelmed by it-- by this wave of so many soul-crushing things-- that he was unfeeling.

“Hey, Takara,” Cross spoke, for the first time since they left-- and when he turned to the older male, his eyes were still those mismatched shades. “Where do we go?”

And Takara had no idea how to answer that.

He looked at the little bear cub, and back at the boy.

They ran from the island, with nothing but the clothes on their back and a little green gem they couldn’t sell. If Cross didn’t know where to go, Takara had no idea where to go either.

“Do you think the both of us are capable of living honest lives?” Takara asked.

It surprised him to hear Cross immediately reply. “How?”

Against everything, Takara just laughed. The answer was so straight out, so frank, and so easy. Was it because Cross always stole from the shopkeepers? Because neither of them were remotely human in the wake of humanity?

Or because Cross knew something Takara didn’t?

“Neither can I,” Takara agreed, “maybe it’d be fun to be on the wrong side of the law for once, don’t you think?”

Cross pouted at that, “laws suck.”

“And you know a lot about it?”

“Course not. Professor didn’t teach me anything either,” Cross mumbled, picking up the baby bear and depositing him into his lap, “but all they’ve done is burn an island and make me run away. This time, last time, next time too.”

It took a moment for that to sink in.

“You had a life before this island?” Takara asked, and somehow that sounded dumb when it was put into question. Of course Cross did. Even Takara had a life before the Professor picked him up and made a mess out of his bones.

But Cross was _feral_. What kind of life did a child lead (and he was young, heck,) to have a bear for a mother, not knowing how to read or interact with humans-- argh, this is starting to sound depressing.

“Islands burn down very often in this world, apparently,” Takara muttered to himself, “but okay then. I have a suggestion.”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s become pirates.”

-

It was a random, very sudden decision, but as soon as Cross understood what a pirate was, he was _ecstatic_ about it. He ran circles around their little boat, the baby bear high in the sky as he chanted, “pirate! Pirate!” over and over.

It was awfully endearing, but Takara sat him down before he capsized the boat.

Cross took off his red jacket, leaving him in his black tank top. The scars on his shoulders, probably from wild animals, were in full view unlike usual.

The sun as bright as it was, Takara decided to shrug off his coat. He just hoped his metal joints wouldn’t reflect too much sunlight and attract an enemy ship in the distance...

The baby bear rested nicely on Takara’s head, liking the high altitude. It was two months old, about the size of a small dog-- and yet, they still couldn’t decide on a name for it.

“Are you sure we can’t name him Rion?” Takara asked the younger boy.

Cross shook his head, “he wants a cooler name!”

Takara’s face scrunched up in displeasure. There it was again, that weird power thing that let Cross understand animals or something.

“Then we shall call him Captain,” Takara decided, mostly as a joke.

Cross perked up, “awesome! That sounds great!”

And somehow, that was how they came to a conclusion. With the bear in his hands, Cross cheered, declaring its name like a name of honour, and the bear rawred back in response.

-

“Would you take a pearl necklace instead?” Takara tried to barter, “I know it’s against your policies-- yes, I really do-- I’m sorry, ow.”

The News Coo pecked the boy in the face a few times, huffing away defiantly at the handful of jewellery Takara was holding.

“Look, please? We’re really tight, you can even keep the change!” Takara argued again, “we don’t have any food, but you can take a gold bar--”

“Gawraahh!!” came the bear.

“--okay, you can’t take the gold bar,” Takara corrected himself, “but okay, I’ll even throw in a diamond--”

“Raaaarhh!” the bear protested again.

“Oh come on!” Takara threw his hands into the air, “you have a pile! Give me one! I need the newspaper!”

“Gawrah rarrrrrr!”

Takara pinched the bridge of his nose, buffering an inevitable headache.

The News Coo, seemingly taking pity on the situation, relented. Prying out a bundle of papers, the bird scooped the pearl necklace out of Takara’s hands and deposited the newspapers in its place.

Takara gave a relieved, grateful look before the bird nodded and flew right off.

“Takara, why do you want that weird paper thing?” Cross asked, picking up the Captain and cradling him in his arms, “Professor isn’t here to read it, right?”

Takara sighed. “No, Cross, the Professor isn’t the only one that reads the news-- I do too. _You_ should, too.”

“But I can’t read!”

“And that is absolutely nothing to be proud of.”

Takara settled down on the edge of the boat, and Captain leaped out of Cross’ arms into his lap. He unrolled the papers to a glaring front page, and scowled.

“What does it say?” Cross sprawled over his shoulders, trying to look at the pictures, “oh! I know what that is! That’s our island!”

Takara’s frown only deepened. Captain leaned into the papers, unable to understand the intelligible human writings-- but Takara was scouring every word and taking it in.

“This isn’t good,” he muttered to himself.

Cross and Captain blinked up at him.

“They’re blaming the fire on, not the Professor, but on _pirates_ ,” Takara hissed, “in fact, there’s not a mention of the Professor at all. They’re saying pirates ransacked the place and-- _fuck_.”

“What’s _fuck_?”

“Nothing.”

Takara pulled the page closer to his eyes. He continued reading the horrifically long-winded piece of text-- and managed to understand the conclusion.

“No one else survived the fire,” Takara told him, almost grimly-- “something’s wrong. If they managed to document this, that means the marines were there. Why didn’t they help anyone, then? They never even showed their faces in the fire.”

Cross leaned in to sniff at the papers-- an action Captain imitated.

“It smells like them,” Cross concluded, left eye gleaming blue, “there were lines of soldiers near the perimeter that barred the civilians from the port, so the evacuation couldn’t happen. They smell like the paper.”

Takara froze.

Those pirate-like delinquents that caused chaos when the fire began-- he’d only heard them, having been busy chasing down the Professor and defending Umma from said bandits-- ah. If they smelled like the paper-- _Marines_.

“Professor must’ve had ties with the World Government,” he spat the words out, “this incident’s a cover up for something.”

And at the bottom of the text, the article boldly dictated a sighting of two surviving instigators-- a man and a boy-- and proposed a high reward to anyone that could provide a solid identification for them both.

They didn’t narrowly, luckily, just _manage_ to escape the island. They were _allowed to go_.

“And they’re blaming _us_ for the fire,” Takara told them, grimly.

Cross’ eyes dulled to gray again, and he brimmed into a smile. “That’s perfect! If we get bounties, we’ll _really_ be pirates then!”

Looks like their choice to become outlaws wasn’t too far from the inevitable, after all.

-

The first island they found themselves at was the sleeping shipwright island of Funemuri. It’s a small island with nothing but scrap and old tech. It’s at a strange point in the tides where trash just keeps washing up, so it’s known as a lair for unsavories.

It does have a nice bathhouse, though. And with how everything is unfamiliar, Takara manages to catch the boy long enough to give him the meanest scrub-down he can. He fucking reeks.

It’s a blessing that the bear, at least, is obedient. He has his own little bucket to soak in and he enjoys the hot water.

Unlike the bathhouse in Moribakari, the fellow customers have no qualms about an animal being in there with them, so that's another plus.

It’s surprisingly easy to settle down in the large clunky towers of the island.

Everything smells like oil here, according to Cross (Takara never seemed to smell things well after his accident anyways) and down at the ship-breaking port, they always needed helping hands.

“Alright Cross, listen to me,” Takara turned to him once they were done cleaning up and acquiring new clothes. “We’re new to this town, so for the first while I want you to stick with me and don’t run off immedi-- CROSS! GET BACK HERE!”

Of course, what did he expect?

“Look, Captain, mountains of trash!” Cross cheered, the bear right behind him. They ran at a mannequin, picked up wooden dolls, and found a little glass eye, “he looks like Takara! Oh, that one looks like you! It’s all made of metal! Look, this is shiny!”

“Cross--” Takara tried, stepping forward-- how is the boy launching himself everywhere? He’ll get lost in this steampunk city, with all the blind spots…

“Look, it’s a robot arm! This is so cool!” Cross held it up, placing a red handprint on the pile of trash before moving on.

“Wait, you shouldn’t--!”

“Captain, I think we can just take anything we want from the piles!” Cross pointed at a few other dumpster divers in the distance, and he turned around to see Captain with a furfull of anything remotely polished.

“Captain, don’t mess around, you’ll get your fur dirty again-- Cross, no!” Takara gave chase, “don’t take that out, you’re going to--” Cross removes a particularly stubborn pipe, and the entire mound of trash comes collapsing right down on Takara.

“Ah, oops. Sorry, Takara… eep.”

Takara stood up straight, firm as a robot, eyes gleaming an angry red as he stared the two morons down with a glare that promised to string them up by their entrails.

Cross and Captain squeak, backing away.

“ ** _Behave,_** ” Takara snarled.

In seconds, Cross and Captain were on their knees, obedient, and quiet, like a pack of subdued rabbits.

-

“I need you to promise me some things, Cross.” Takara sat him down and spoke to him, calmly. Captain settled beside him too, because he liked to imitate Cross’ postures all the time. “Remember what I said about promises?”

“You never, ever break them?” Cross asked back, raising his little finger, “like a pinky swear, right?”

Takara nodded. He raised his index finger, “don’t use your Tag-Tag powers without my permission.”

Takara was a little surprised when Cross just nodded, not asking any questions. As annoying as the kid was, he guessed the kid understood how to be serious? But he gathered himself and continued, raising another finger to add to the list.

“Come back to me at sunset, or come here if you can’t find me,” he pointed at their feet, to show him he’s gesturing at the shore in general. Then he raised a third finger, putting his other hand on the little baby bear, “and of course, protect Captain.”

Takara nuzzled the little bear around the ears until it got annoyed and made a growling sound, and he chuckled.

Then he turned to Cross again. “That’s it. You can go have fun, but stay on the island, okay?”

“What about being pirates?” Cross asked him.

Takara dropped a hand at the metal core of his nape. He chortled a little, “I need to get some things first, so wait for a bit. We’ll go when I’m done.”

-

Takara stepped into the city, all decked out in long sleeves and a turtleneck. He even wore gloves for good measure.

He made a lot of noise when he walked, with all his prosthetics making different noises at each joint, so it was still pretty obvious he had metal parts on him.

Even in this rusty town bustling with gear-eyed mechanics, Takara stands out. He spent so long garnering the trust and acceptance of the people in Moribakari, but it had ultimately come to waste with their deaths.

If possible he wants to set a friendly impression before he sets a weird one.

“Hey, Mister, aren’t you hot in all that?” a shopkeeper spoke to him, looking incredulously at the man. “If you get a heatstroke and faint, someone’s going to pick you up and steal your arms or something, you know?”

Takara laughed at that, “sounds like this is a rather interesting town I’ve stumbled upon! Anyways, you got machine oil? The good kind.”

“All my machine oil’s the good kind, you dipshit,” the shopkeeper retorted, “but if you’re looking for the ones safe for prosthetics, you gotta look somewhere else.”

Takara blinked. “There’s a difference?”

The shopkeeper stared at him, looking baffled, “you’re new here,” he says, like it explains a lot, “I guess countries out of here keep pouring oil into their bloodstream? How are you not dead?”

Takara frowned, brows furrowing. He’s never met anyone with similar prosthetics to him-- does that mean it's a mechanism from this island? Where did the Professor-- no… _who_ exactly is the Professor?

_Why did the Professor give him these arms?_

The shopkeeper handed a note to his customer, containing directions. “Here you go. Tell the old coot in there I recommended you and he’ll answer your questions.”

Takara stared at the paper.

“Uh, thanks.”

-

-

“You need ten cartons of it if you’re not planning on coming back. What are you still standing there for? Take that awful shirt off so I can see what you need!” the man was short and stout and had the temper to match.

He heard about thirty words of Takara’s explanation and just about exploded.

“You need maintenance! MAINTENANCE! Have you never screwed in your own elbow even once in your life?! You’re not a baby!”

Takara has no idea what the standard of normality is in this town, but it’s certainly not common sense.

“Stop dawdling or I’ll shred your clothes off MYSELF!”

Takara very honestly does not want to be stripped naked by an old man he just met, so he squawked with all the dignity of a teenager and pulled his shirt over his shoulders.

Later, he got a full-blown lecture about machinery prosthetics, how to maintain them, what screws you can and can’t use, as well as how often you’re supposed to replace the parts so they don’t rust.

“The oil is made from something called Cryroad Berries,” the old man, who later introduced himself as Mister Daywarf, smoked on his pipe. “They used to grow on Moribakari, but now that it’s burned down, you’ll have to get some in the Grand Line.”

Takara, now dressed again, leaned over the counter to see the picture. It looked like cherries, if cherries had four fruits to each stem and were white.

They used to grow on Moribakari. Maybe Cross would know about it…

“Since the forest is gone, are you guys in trouble?” Takara asked, feeling a little regretful though he wasn’t guilty.

“Of course we are!” Mister Daywarf slammed his pipe down, knocking out the smoke and filling it in again. Takara flinched. “We depend highly on that stock, I’ll have you know! If I could catch the culprits with my own hands, I’d tear their throats out and stick them up their asscrack!”

Takara tried not to show how pale he was, but he gulped, leaning slightly away from the counter in case the man tried.

“That sounds a little… awful,” he offered weakly.

The man took a long drag of his pipe, and breathed it out. “It’s what I was planning on doing before I met ya, you punk.”

This time, Takara jerked back, then kept stepping backward until he hit a wall.

He couldn’t help how terrified he was looking at Mister Daywarf, and Mister Daywarf smirked toothily, a taunting eye on the boy.

“What, you think none of us know? Word travels like rats here-- gotta bet a bunch of the hooligans have already sent your photos out to the dogs.”

Takara’s throat made a whimpering noise. “Please don’t tear out my throat and stick it up my asscrack.”

“I could have done it already about twenty times if I wanted to, you utter buffoon, now stand up straight cause my listening fees are expensive, you don’t want to waste a second of it.”

“You’re charging me for this?”

“Fifty thousand beri, fifty-one thousand beri, fifty-two thousand--”

“I’m listening, I’m listening!”


	3. believe (bonds will form with time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They leave Funemuri.
> 
> They drift in the sea, vaguely aware of their spot on the map. 
> 
> They come to a new island on the outskirts of West Blue-- and here, they come upon a strange man with blond hair.

The air here wasn't the nicest. Nowhere really was nicer air than Moribakari, but Cross wasn't one to be sentimental about locations.

He fiddled with the emerald in his pocket, keeping the little bear in his sight.

Cross liked Takara. He was mean and sometimes scary, but people that teach him things are always good people. So he will keep his promises with Takara. Promises are important, right?

Cross uprooted a dagger from under the mound of trash. He stared at it for a long second, before spinning and chucking it to the left.

A hidden man with a camera fell back, dagger between his eyes and mouth frothing with spew and blood.

Cross crouched down beside him, plucking the bloodied knife out from between his brows, determining that it was too dull to use, and tossed it away.

He stepped on the camera on the way out.

"Captain," he sang, "let's go somewhere else!"

Takara didn't say anything about killing, right? Just don't use his powers without permission, so basically he can do anything else.

That's a lot of stuff he can do.

-

"So you're trying to be a pirate, huh?" the nice mister from the ship-breaking port smiled at him, and Cross smiled back, Captain snarling in his arms.

"Takara said the Bevy just famed us, so we can't live normally anymore," Cross explained, ignoring the puzzled look the man gave him.

"I'm gonna put the pieces together and just roughly guess you're trying to tell me the Navy framed you guys and that's why you're turning to piracy," he said.

The man put down his load of lumber to address the child.

"And well, that's a pretty common story round these parts. It's always the Navy, or the World Government, or some shit royalty. Makes me miss the days Roger was alive..."

"Roger?"

"What, you're trying to be a pirate and you don't know who Roger is?" the man leaned forward a little with a bit too much cheer, "sit down, kid! Let me tell you a story. It's something you have to know if you want to be a pirate!"

-

_Knock, knock._

**_Hm? Okay._ **

-

Cross' left eye was blue when the man finished talking. He could see the man flinch back in surprise, but only looked on with a puzzled expression, staring a little closer and speaking in a farce of not noticing.

"There are marines-- stronger ones once you cross into the Grand Line-- they'll try and stop you. But Roger's a guy that defeated them like they were nothing!" the man said.

From the way he was trying not to look too closely at Cross' face now, he must've realized staring was rude. Maybe he wasn't sure if the blue was there from the start.

He couldn't help but smile at that.

"So are pirates or marines the bad guys?" he asked.

The man hummed at that. "From a moral point of view? Pirates. But the Marines are corrupted now-- it's hard to say that they're the good ones. There are also plenty of pirates that grant islands protection. Whitebeard, for instance. It's hard to call guys like those completely bad."

"Morality's a gray thing, after all," the child said, twirling around the little plastic pipe he'd found within arm's reach. "In this world, the ones who get to choose the 'right' have never proved themselves to be worth the spot. That's why the world's a mess."

The man leaned his chin into his hand. "You sure speak some profound things, kid."

The child smiled. "Thanks for the story, old man."

And he stood up.

Strangely enough, Captain snarled at him, barking out a roar in hostility when the child tried to approach. He messed his hair up with a sigh and walked in another direction, hoping the bear would obediently follow.

-

He had a pair of blades hidden under his sleeves.

They're triangular and about the size of his palm, attached to each other with a long red string that curled somewhere hidden near his elbows.

To use them, he threw them out and lobbed, like chain-connected scythes or grappling hooks, whichever was preferable for the situation. Yes, with the mastery, these fragile-looking nonsense actually did work that way.

Unlike scrap daggers and random weapons in the dumpster, these were important weapons. It's not something to flaunt around, so he hid them even from Takara.

Cross loved them and treasured them enough to only use them for important means. He would never taint them with the blood of some random that wasn't worth his time. The boy religiously polished the blades every night.

But now he handed them to the baby bear, and admired the way Captain just crooned at it, poking interestedly and sniffing experimentally.

Captain dodged his hand when he tried to pet him, so he pouted.

-

_Have it back._

**_Right._ **

-

Cross took the blades away from the bear and tucked it back into his sleeves, ignoring the little bear's whines.

"Let's go play somewhere else, Captain," he said, standing up and dusting himself. He blinked, and his eyes returned to their twin gray hues.

The bear nuzzled at the leg of his pants. Smiling fondly, Cross sought out something to build up their little pile of treasure again.

-

-

-

"Ooooohh!!"

Cross' eyes sparkled with excitement. Takara had finally come back from the city a little after sunset, and he came with a haircut, a tank top, a huge sack of something, and his metal parts in full view of the world.

Cross was never too fascinated by them, but they still looked cool. His body was flesh, but his joints were metal.

"I thought you wanted to hide your metal?" Cross asked him when he approached.

Honestly, Takara scowled so strongly at that. Takara then had a flashback of some sort before making a cringing noise. 

Then he said, mirthfully, "the people in this town are scary."

Cross tilted his head to the side curiously, but Takara didn't give him an answer.

"A-Anyways!" Takara cut in sharply, "I'm done with everything I needed to do. Even got us some food and a map of the West. Let's get a boat from the shipwrights and we can leave, alright?"

Cross' mood flipped around quickly after that, cheering.

And Captain jumped onto the sack of food, roaring something. Takara squawked when the bear started biting into their food stock, and Cross laughed.

-

A one-cabin fishing boat. There's a kitchen and a bed, though it's small.

"You guys don't have enough people to sail a caravel, so I'm not letting you," the older shipwright with a chubby temper growled at them. "I know you guys are running, but I heard you're trying to be pirates. Gather some friends before you get a bigger boat, aye?"

Takara chuckled sheepishly.

He'd really rather have a bigger, more pirate-like ship with a workshop, a kitchen, yada yada, but knowing his companions are a mentally-stunted brat and a literal bear, he wouldn't be able to handle sailing anything bigger in case of a storm.

Guess he has to give up on a ship until a few more islands.

"We're running?" Cross asked, turning to Takara. Captain, clinging to the boy's head, made a 'gawrah?' in confusion.

"Yes, Cross. We are running from Marines," Takara reminded them. He retrieved a cigarette and took a long drag.

"What's that?"

"Cigarettes."

"What's it for?"

"Magic."

"Oh, okay."

Takara thanks the man for the fishing boat, and he steps in. The night's already fallen, but Takara's been assured by scary shopkeeper Mister Daywarf that he was trustworthy. There are very probably no sabotages on the ship.

"So you guys come like a storm and you're already setting off," the man huffed.

Takara smiled, bashful. 

Cross and Captain leapt on, charging into the cabin and screaming all the words they know.

"I really can't thank you guys enough," Takara said.

And the man sighed. "This island is filled with sheep like yours-- forced to the wrong side of society for the world. You could call it empathy, but half of us aren't kind enough to be considered with that word. So call it indifference."

Indifference, pretending not to know.

"We never met you, we never talked," the man said. "Forget, then forget you forgot. Goodbye."

And he walked away, no longer making eye contact.

Takara smiled warmly. "Let's go, Cross."

The sails unfurl, and they leave the island, following the night winds and leaving into the moonlit night. They have until daybreak to make themselves scarce.

Their stop on this island was short, calm, and unbearably fortunate.

-

Takara screwed the buckle into the leather, then raised it to the moon.

Leaning back against the cabin, their boat drifted in the sea, heading in some direction. He checked his compass beside him, and resumed his work.

He set the diamond-shaped emerald into a socket on the other side, and clasped it shut with a X-shaped casing.

"Come here, Captain."

The bear hopped off the cabin and landed on Takara's head.

"Don't blame me if you fall into the sea doing that, okay?" Takara says, "none of the humans in this boat can swim, so if you drown, we'll let you."

Captain made a growling noise.

Takara let the bear fall into his lap with a flop. He wrapped the leather collar around the bear's neck, and buckled it with a sharp click.

"There," he said, satisfied, "now you can carry around Umma's gem with you wherever you go."

Captain whined, like it hated the stifling thing.

"No complaining," Takara told him, "you don't want to get eaten by the humans again, do you?"

Captain made a whimpering noise.

"Now go on and show that off to Cross or something."

And the bear ran off. The cabin door was left open, so he entered, and a moment later, Takara could hear Cross rambling off with him in excitement.

Takara sighed. He looked at the sky, and turned back to the compass, and his metal-coated hands.

He closed his eyes.

"I've sure come a long way from then, huh..."

-

Their wanted posters came the next day. They didn't have official epithets yet, but the media was dubbing them **_the_** **_Rejects_**.

Someone had given them an account. Something about how they were a pair of estranged children from a skeptical Professor's house.

One of them had a body made of metal, a heart made of machine-- and the other was a monster in the form of a child, who once walked out of the woods with blood on his hands and the remains of a human in their teeth.

The world deemed them monster experiments gone wrong. Apparently, they lost it, and burned down the island on the way out.

"So did you actually do that or are they exaggerating?" Takara oddly found the article humorous. Maybe he really was losing it.

"Huh? I didn't burn down the island," Cross said. He was sunbathing with Captain on the roof of the cabin.

It was daytime now, and they had little to do except wait for the boat to move.

"No, I mean the 'walking out of the forest all bloody' part," Takara clarified, "they're implying you're a cannibal."

Cross blanched, "human meat is disgusting."

"You ate human meat?!"

"No, why would I eat it if it's disgusting?"

There's a flabbergasted pause.

Then, "Cross--" he stopped himself. Was he going to placate this child for being a murderer of some sort? It wasn't as if he never knew-- Cross took human lives lightly and that was obvious from the start.

But Takara couldn't really reprimand anyone for any form of homicide right now. He'd be a hypocrite.

So instead, he sighed. "Nevermind."

-

-

"I'm borrreeed!!"

Cross whined and complained, but who could blame him? He was the kind of kid that ran around the jungle every day and night as a living. It's impressive he made a full day out at sea before he started making noise.

"If we get more crewmates, we can get a ship," Takara bargained, "then you'll have more space to run around. So be patient, okay?"

He continued making whiny noises.

Captain was enjoying himself, swimming around the vicinity of the boat to cool down from the heat. Takara made sure to tie a lifeline to the bear and watch him closely in case he started sinking too far down.

"Crewmates? Are you sure we can trust anyone else with our lives?"

Takara swirled around in surprise. He looked up sharply-- and Cross was laying stomach down on the cabin roof, looking down at Takara with a pair of heterochromatic eyes.

Takara gulped. Those eyes were never not ominous.

"We've been betrayed once," the younger boy said. "Twice. Or thrice. I don't know about you-- but that's how it's been for Cross."

Takara's eyes widened.

"You don't trust humans," Takara realized, trying not to instinctively reach for the nearest weapon-like object in the vicinity. He calmed himself down before he continued-- "they're not worth it, in your eyes. Is that it?"

The boy that wasn't Cross smiled.

Takara laughed, but his body language was stiff and his chortles are nervous.

"Well... if you don't like humans," Takara told him-- and he broke into a painfully empathetic smile, "then we just have to look for other monsters, right?"

The boy grinned, all teeth.

"I like you," it said.

Then Cross blinked, and the blue was gone.

-

-

"Sea, sea, SEA!! Nothing but sea!" Cross yelled out to the horizon. "Takara, why is it sea? Why is sea always there??"

Takara was carving into a lump of wood with a small knife. He inspected the curvature. "I don't know, Cross. Why don't you ask the sea?" he didn't even look up.

Cross slammed his hands into the sea's surface, "why are you here, sea?!"

Then he went limp, losing energy.

Yeah, he's an idiot.

"We'll get to Mug Island in a few hours. Bear with it until then," Takara told him, He raises his almost-finished workpiece to the sun. It's in the shape of a six-pointed diamond, about the size of his palm. He resumed carving.

And suddenly Cross was beside him, blocking the sunlight.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

Surprised, Takara cut it through too far-- and to his own amazement, cut it right in half.

Now he had two halves of a diamond. That's amazing.

He sighed.

"It's called rehab. It's what I do to practice moving my fingers properly," Takara explained, picking up the pieces and wondering what he could do with it.

He put them back together. They didn't magically fuse. Dammit.

"You need practice for that?" Cross asked.

"Yes. I've been doing it ever since I met you," Takara said. He raised the two pieces. "Want one?"

Cross received it brightly, "uhn!"

Cross went off to show Captain, but Takara honestly didn't know why he was so excited. Maybe Cross just liked anything as long as it was a gift. He sighed.

He picked up another slab of wood.

Time to try again.

-

"And... there." Takara blew on the collar, brushing off the sawdust and rough pieces. "There you go, Captain. Now your name's on it."

The bear growled.

"Don't growl at me. If you don't wear it, you'll become food," Takara hissed at him, "you wanna become food? You wanna become nutrients in our stomach? You'd have been useful three days ago but do you know why I didn't cook you? I don't know, honestly. Maybe I should. Alright, I'll go start the fire."

The bear's now crying at his feet.

Takara huffed.

"Hey, Takara! Don't make him cry!!" Cross hollered from the other side of the boat.

"Listen here, Captain," Takara ignored Cross, sitting down beside the bear, "Cross spoils you rotten, but I'm not gonna do that. We promised Umma we'd raise you. Part of raising you is the discipline, and if you're a man, you sit there and take it! Got it?"

"Takara, you're talking to a literal bear."

"Shut up, you're a literal monkey!"

Captain sat down like a dog would sit, looking straight at Takara with a resolved expression. Somehow, the bear could pull off that expression.

He made an affirmative noise, then pawed at the collar.

Takara patted him on the head.

Then he turned to Cross. "You know, I think Captain's much more well behaved than you are."

Cross looked terribly offended.

-

"Mug Island! Mug Island!"

"Cross, no."

He pouted. Sitting down on the cabin of their fishing boat, Cross puffed up his cheeks and decided to throw a tantrum up there.

They're attracting attention from the other ships on the dock, so Takara picked up a rock and flicked it at the boy's forehead.

"We have a ship now, so someone has to stay behind to guard our things," the older one said. He shrugged on his long sleeved, high collared coat again, "I'll get on land to restock, so you stay on the boat."

"What about Captain?" Cross whined.

"Captain stays with you..." Takara stopped. He swirled his head around. "Wait, where did he go?!"

Laughter came from the boat beside them. Takara looked over.

There's a blond man on that little sail boat, wearing a white button-up and a cowboy hat. The blond man chuckled. "If you're searching for a little bear cub with a collar, it ran off the moment you docked," he said, pointing in the direction of the city.

Takara _screeched_ , "that idiotic bear!!" he yelled, clawing at his hair.

The blond chuckled again.

Takara pointed sharply at Cross. "You stay here!" then he turned to blondie, "thanks so much, sir! If you'll excuse me..." and he ran off.

Cross was still pouting. "No fair! Captain gets to go out and play!"

And a rock comes soaring from a mile away, smacking him right in the forehead with such force it sent him shooting backward on impact.

This is when the blond-haired man snorted out a disgraceful laughter, falling back on his boat in his discomposure. 

Cross turned to look at him, and the blond sat up, fixing his hat as he wiped away a tear.

"Oh, sorry for laughing, you guys are a riot!" he said. Leaning on the edge of the boat, he smiled. "My name's Titus. Nice to meet ya, kid!"

Cross grinned. "Nice'tya too!"


	4. bells (ring it, it's time to depart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet Titus, and Titus meets the strange child. They speak of dreams and treasures, and magical stones of myth and lore.
> 
> Takara learns the sea routes, and Captain goes on a slightly dangerous adventure.

Titus was a strange man.

"You have weird hair, mister!" was the first thing Cross said to him. "It's all yellow and shiny! Like gold!"

The blond took off his cowboy hat, setting it aside.

Titus laughed warmly at that. "It's pretty common, actually," he told the kid, "in fact, red hair like your pal back there is rarer."

"Really?"

"Yeah. your pal's more of a magenta and brown mix, though. It's unique," Titus said, "there's a pirate called Akagami out in the sea, and his hair is said to be such a shade of crimson, pictures can never capture it well."

"Red hair? That's a weird name," Cross said.

In a moment, the boy sauntered off his own ship and landed on Titus' rowboat, sitting uncomfortably close to the stranger.

Titus stiffened, but composed himself quickly. "It's not his real name. It's just a nickname the Marines gave him."

Cross was handed a paper from Titus' bag. It's a wanted poster of a red-haired man with three scars across his left eye.

"Shanks," Cross read it. "Cool, his hair is more like blood than Takara's!"

"More like blood, huh. That's true." Titus said, "He's known as one of the four 'Emperors' of the sea. One of the strongest pirates in the world right now. See the price?"

Now Cross squinted at the paper.

"One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand, hundred..." he turned to Titus, "what comes after that?"

Titus burst into laughter.

-

"What are you trying to hide with that much cloth over your skin?"

The bartender's quite a busybody.

But maybe Takara's pretty eye catching after all. Mug Island's peaceful, too out of the way for pirates to bother robbing-- so a man in a trench coat stood out.

"A lot," Takara said simply.

"So what're you looking for?" The man says, blowing out a large cloud of smoke from his cigarette. "Mister Reject?"

Takara laughed. "Am I that obvious?" he swirled the cup of sake in his hands. "Well, maybe you get the gist of the story. We're going to escape to the Grand Line, so I'll need to know the nearest islands."

The bartender wiped the glass in his hands.

"There's Toroa, the town of Music," the bartender put down a map of West Blue on the table. He points to Mug Island where they're on, and trails directly forward to an island down south. He then points to another. "Here's Vetar, they have good sake."

Takara hummed with interest, taking a sip from his cup.

Noticing something, he took out a map from his sack-- and laid them side by side.

"I see, my map's out of date," he said, taking out a pen to cross out Ohara on his old map.

There's a small island nearer to them than the other two, and it's an absent location from the newer cartography.

"Then what's this island? It's not in the new map," Takara said.

The bartender set down the glass in his hands, and looked closer.

"That's probably Shikke Island," then the bartender waved his hand around, "I'm warning you, kid. That place is bad news, so don't even try to head for there."

"Shikke," Takara repeated the name curiously, "it used to deal trades with Kano and Ohara, didn't it?"

"Yeah, and the economy collapsed after Ohara burned down," the bartender warned him. "They had a civil war. Don't know who won, but they cut off all connections to Kano Country and even to the government. Going there even by accident is suicide."

Surely, if a country cut off all outside contact, they definitely wouldn't be friendly to any outsiders, much less pirates.

"I appreciate the information. Thanks, sir," he downed the rest of the glass and laid a pouch of coins on the counter.

Gathering up his own map, he stood up to leave.

-

Captain snuck around town. It wouldn't be the first time he explored a town on his own, but it'd be his first time in a new town!

"Woah! It's a bear!"

The humans parted for him, all staring agape as if he were an attraction.

He rawred at them.

"It's cute!!"

"No, it's still a bear! Don't go near it!"

"Yeah, what'll you do if the mother shows up?!"

Captain was scooped up into a little girl's arms. Then a man snatched him away from her, holding him away by the scruff. The bear was then passed around the crowd, because they couldn't decide if it was better to let him go or take him in like a stray puppy.

Captain quite liked the attention.

When he was finally set free near the woods, his fur was full of money and little jewellery he'd stolen from those unsuspecting humans.

-

"Here's an archery brace, two hundred iron arrows, and five boxes of bolts. Pay me however much you want, and please get out right after."

"Right. Thanks, sir."

Takara tossed the man a sack of beri.

It's normal to not be welcome in civilian islands, especially when the newspapers have a published account of how you brutally murdered thousands of people by setting fire to the richest produce island of West Blue.

The World Government was infuriated by the destruction (and large economic loss) so in a package deal, **_the Rejects of Moribakari_** have a twenty million beri bounty on their heads.

West Blue didn't have the greatest track record of obeying the government. Their immediately issued bounty wasn't unexpected.

In hindsight, it probably meant that West Blue was quite a pirate-prone sea. It also meant that the civilians here have the strength to give you a run for your money if you try anything less than civil.

He spun a pack of cigarettes in his pocket, and casually took a visor hat off the shelf, depositing it on his head.

The shopkeepers don't notice.

-

"So you guys are pirates?" Titus found it slightly humorous, "with two people? And a bear?"

Cross nodded. "Hey, Titus," he pronounced the name with an extended 'su' at the end, trying to imitate how Titus pronounced his own name. Then he paused. "How do you spell that?"

Titus laughed.

Dipping a hand in the water, he wrote on the rails with wet fingers, so the watery letters stayed on the wood. **T-I-T-U-S.**

"In Western, you pronounce it _Titus (tye-thus)_ ," he said, "in Eastern, you pronounce it _Titus (tee-tah-ssu)_. Like I did."

Cross leaned over the rail. "Titus, you're Eastern?"

"No, I'm Southern," Titus said. "You know where the South is?"

Cross looked to the side a little, thinking. Then, "oh!" he brightened up, "the bottom right side of the map, right?"

Titus smiled. "That's right. Everyone on the left speaks Western, everyone on the right speaks Eastern. This includes the Grand Line, too."

"They're different?" Cross asked.

Titus shook his head, "they just sound slightly distinct from each other. It's called an accent."

Cross hummed. "That's weird."

"You can call me anything you want," Titus told him. "So, what are you and your cyborg big brother going to do?"

"Cyborg?" Cross asked. Then, "I dunno. I just go where Takara wants to."

Titus blinked at that. "So he's the captain?"

Cross shook his head. "Captain is captain."

Titus stared blankly at that, not too sure how to answer. He decided to shove the matter aside, "so he's the navigator?"

"What's a navigator?" came the next question.

Titus broke into a nervous chortle, "looks like this is going to be one hell of a long conversation."

-

Takara walked in on a bunch of bandits cheering loudly. They were at the edge of the forest, tents set up to have a little roasted meal with booze.

He took a drag of his cigarette.

"Oh, hey there," one of the cheering bandits spotted him and greeted, "we got plenty of meat to share. Want some?"

Before them, a small bonfire was started. Hung over the wooden pole like a pig about to be roasted-- is a very familiar bear.

"I think I'm fine," Takara told them, still staring at the crying, sobbing little creature that was begging for his life.

"Really?" the bandit asked, "well whatever. More for us. Roast 'im!!"

And the crowd cheered again. The bear squawked in terror.

Takara scratched the back of his head.

"Uh... sorry to rain on your parade, guys," he decided to speak up. "But that bear's mine. I need him back or my kid's gonna start crying."

The bandits turned around, starved fury in their eyes.

Takara sighed.

"Oh?" the one in front of him stood up. "You're looking to steal our catch."

Takara stared at him. The other bandit was much taller, let's call him Beanstalk, so with him standing an inch before Takara, he probably was trying to be intimidating.

Takara breathed out a cloud of smoke at his face.

"He's got a collar," Takara pointed the cigarette at the bear, who was sobbing something indistinct at this point, "that means it's not food."

"And whose rule is that?" Beanstalk shoved his forehead against the redhead's, pushin forward like a kid trying to pick a fight. "You think bandits listen to rules, punk?"

Takara stood perfectly still and unfazed. It's hard to be pushed back when you weigh a few tonnes on prosthetics alone.

He hummed, "you have a point. My bad," he said. Pulling up his sleeve, he pressed a button at his wrist, and a crossbow installed in his arm popped out, snapping into place.

"What the fu--!!"

In a second, Takara had them pinned to the ground by their shoes, arrows lodging into the earth. He loaded the next round, and aimed it at the man's face.

Takara shrugged. "I guess I'm stealing your catch."

"You piece of shit! It's first come, first to take!" Beanstalk yelled. "It's common sense!"

Takara raised his crossbow. "Huh? I'm a pirate, you know," he feigned innocence, smirking slightly. "You think pirates operate on common sense?"

-

"Ehhh?! Why won't you join me, Titus? Let's be pirates together!"

"I'm not a pirate, I'm a Treasure Hunter."

Maybe it was because Titus didn't trust the kid to watch a boat by himself. At first, he seemed just about to leave-- then as they began to talk, he just settled down and stayed there, intending on waiting until Takara came back.

"Then become a pirate," Cross told him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"It doesn't work that way," Titus retorted.

Cross pouted, but didn't make a fuss. Instead, he slacked at the top of the cabin and made a groaning noise. "Why not? Pirates are fun!"

_Fun, huh?_

Titus turned away. "Fun is nice, but I'd rather have freedom," he said.

He looked toward the sky, reaching out.

"To become a pirate is to throw away your privileges. There are places you can't go to, and inevitably, people you can't protect," Titus turned to Cross-- and he sucked in a breath when he saw the boy.

Cross laid on the cabin, his hands under his chin. There's a very uncomfortably sweet smile on his face-- and his eyes-- was that eye blue before this? There's no way it could have changed colours, right?

"What are you running from, Mister _Titus_?"

When Cross spoke, Titus instantly knew something was wrong. Cross had said his name in a Western accent this time, even though before this he'd been saying it in Eastern like how Titus had introduced himself.

"I'm not... running," Titus told him, fists tight.

 _Something is wrong with this kid. Something..._ and he didn't know _what._

The kid chuckled, like he knew better. "Then, what are you trying to protect?" he asked. "Family? Treasure? Or, pride?"

Titus' gaze sharpened. "Is there a difference?"

The kid simpered, smile stretching wide like a cheshire cat.

Absently, Titus reached for the gun in his rucksack.

Then Cross blinked, and the blue was gone from his eyes.

Titus felt his shoulders sag in relief.

"So, what do treasure hunters do?" Cross asked, back into his childish little voice. "You look for gold?"

Titus raised an eyebrow at this. "Something like that," he said. "But I'm looking for something better than that."

That got his attention.

Cross pushed himself off the cabin quickly, "something better than gold?"

Titus chuckled. The boy looked maybe sixteen, but he really was such a kid. Titus quite liked handling children.

He retrieved a sketch from his bag.

"This is called the Marivstone," Titus showed the drawing to the boy. It's a gem, perfectly blue, perfectly round. "It's said to be bluer than the seas, clearer than the sky, yet as deep as the Earth itself."

"Maribu stone?"

"It's also called the Stone of Marie, is that easier to pronounce?" Titus chuckled. "It's a legendary stone that can grant the holder anything they wish for-- even wishes beyond logical reason!"

"Marie!" Cross read it easily this time, "can it really do anything? Like, mountains of gold?"

Titus laughed, "you could wish for gold to never stop raining from the sky, and it would really happen!"

Cross' eyes gleamed with endless interest. "That's so cool!!"

"Right?" Titus said, getting caught up in the excitement. "I really want that stone. It's my only goal in life." He crunched the paper in his hands, and his smile pulled tight. "And I won't die until I find it."

Cross watched from the side, slightly confused.

(For a second, his eye flickers blue, the being inside him filled with curiosity. But it vanished in the next blink.)

Cross chuckled.

-

-

"Now you know why I told you not to run off on your own."

The bear made a string of scandalised growling noises. Clinging to Takara's shoulder, he essentially kept barking at the man from beside his ear, teary-eyed and sniffling.

Takara tried to light his cigarette, breathing out a heavy drag.

"Yes, the collar didn't work. My mistake. But I also told you to stay on the boat, and you didn't," Takara told him, walking quickly with a sack of treasure over one shoulder, "if you steal this much from humans," he shook the bag a little, "I'd be surprised if you weren't minced first. Learn restraint."

The bear chomped on his ear.

"OW! Did you just BITE me?!" Takara snapped away, turning sharply to the grizzly.

He made a little roar.

"You cheeky little--" Takara reached over and pulled at the bear's cheek, "I swear I'll make you emergency rations one day, you hear?! I'll make curry out of you, you miniature imbecile!"

"GRAWHH!!"

"Don't 'grawh' me, you bear!"

They made it back to their fishing boat with that strange exchange drawing quite a few strange stares.

-

"No, Cross, you can't have my hat," Titus said, "give it-- Hey! Give it back!"

"I got it! It's mine now!"

"No it isn't!"

Takara walked into a strange argument. Cross had the blondie's cowboy hat in his hands (probably stole it. That shiny plate around the rim looked nice) and the blond man looked positively troubled by it.

"Cross," Takara interrupted, and all movement stopped. "Return it."

Cross made the most offended noise.

"But you always let me keep the stuff I managed to steal!" Cross whined.

"You're only allowed to keep it if the owner didn't notice you stealing it," Takara stated firmly. "If they notice you, then you can't keep it. That was what we promised, right?"

Cross pouted. He tossed the hat back in Titus' direction. Titus caught it, slightly surprised by the immediate compliance.

Cross hopped off the cabin, onto land. "Welcome back," he said, apprehensively. He puffed up his cheeks slightly, still upset with his stay-here duty. "I watched the ship."

"I hope you did," Takara said back, smiling. He dug out a visor hat from his sack and slotted it on the boy's head. "Don't be so puffy. Here's a present."

"m'Not puffy," Cross complained, brushing his hair around the hat so it fit comfortably. "What is this? Weird hat. It doesn't have a top. It's dumb."

"It's called a visor hat. Blocks out sunlight from your eyes," Takara put his load on the boat, "your eyes tend to change colours sometimes, too. Better not to show people stuff like that or they'll freak out."

Takara turned to Titus, nodding his head in lieu of a greeting. Titus held his hat to his chest, returning the greeting.

Takara shot an eye at Cross, and the bear on his shoulder 'gao'ed cheerfully. "Looks like my kid gave you some trouble. Sorry about that."

"No worries, sir," Titus grinned, "always a joy to deal with kids. My name's Titus, by the way. Glad to meet ya."

"What's with the sir, I'm not that old," Takara took a drag of his cigarette. "I'm Takara."

"By the way Takara, your kid's freaky."

"Oh trust me, you haven't seen the worst of him."

The two adults locked eyes for a short moment. Takara's hand prodded strangely close to the trigger of his hidden crossbow.

Though a smile was on his face, Titus had his hand on his gun, a second away from having his finger in the trigger.

Titus hummed. "Have we met before, mister?" he asked.

Takara scoffed, "I'm not _that_ young, you punk."

Titus flustered, raising his gun, "mister, I will literally _shoot_ you."

Beside them, Cross picked up Captain, stepping into the boat and humming something about being hungry. He wasn't interested in the adult's talk.


	5. raising hell (shout with all your voice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Titus spends some time adrift with the odd combination.
> 
> They get along. It's almost joyful, but they're not comrades-- they're not there yet.
> 
> Then, the marine ship.

Titus was pretty good with children, but he had no idea how to deal with a bear.

Why is there a bear on the boat, anyways?

"I'm headed for Vetar, too," Titus had told them when they shared their destinations, "I guess we can sail together till then?"

Cross had run around cheering, and Takara shook his hand for a temporary companionship agreement.

Takara had basic navigation knowledge, but that was about it.

"This is Captain!" Cross introduced the bear to him, and Titus awkwardly introduced himself back. The bear actually roared in greeting. It-- He's cute, but what the hell?

And so, the three of them plus a bear set off toward the sea.

-

"So if you're pirates, aren't you going to hoist up a jolly roger?" Titus asked him.

Takara was carving out a new diamond out of wood when Titus spoke to him. They all had nothing better to do while the wind took them along their road, so conversation was alright.

"Maybe when we get a little further from Moribakari," Takara told him. "The Marines are still unsettled after the fire, so they'll be on the lookout for any suspicious ships. I'd rather they not catch us so soon."

"The Reject Pirates... the _Pirates of the Reject Pile_ has a nice ring to it," Titus chuckled. "So you're headed for the Grand Line just like this? You'll die without a proper navigator, y'know?"

Takara raised the shape into the sun, and brought it back down. "Oh shush," he chided, "you're not offering to fill the position, are you?"

"Course not, I don't have the liberty of playing pirate right now," Titus laughed. "I got other places to be, a treasure I need to find as soon as I can."

Takara hummed at that.

He took off his coat, and lay it beside him. Titus quickly looked away when light reflected off his metal parts.

Takara was essentially a many-sided mirror in this sunshine. He laughed, quickly picking up his coat and sliding it around his shoulders where the metal joint was largest.

"Interested?" Takara prompted.

"Intrigued," Titus rephrased, "how do they work?"

Takara curled his fingers. His hands were full metal prosthetics, save for two fingers made of flesh.

(It's as if whoever it was, was trying to hide the robot in skin-- but didn't have enough skin to spare.)

His forearm was metal, but at his elbows, skin took over, spanning the rest of his body like a sheet wrapped over a metal marionette, tugged largely over his front and less on his back, leaving his metal spine exposed.

(So is Takara a human with robot parts, or a robot with human parts?)

Like a doll, metal ball-joints replaced his elbows, and numerous important mobility bones. His entire spine was exposed, sheer steel and colour-coded wires spread out, gathering into one important-looking core at his nape.

"Whatever this thing is, it replaces my entire nervous system," Takara touched the core at the back of his neck, "my brain works, but my spine doesn't, so this thing sends out all the necessary electronic impulses instead."

Titus stared at the metal arms.

"Cool," he said.

"You don't understand, do you?"

"Nope, not at all."

-

"You hold it like this," Cross held up the half-diamond, and prompted Titus to do the same. The two halves joined at the center, forming the full diamond shape. There's a click, and the two pieces snap together like a perfectly slotted pair.

Titus drops it in surprise, but it's attached to Cross' piece, so it doesn't fall.

"Cool, right?" Cross said, taking them apart to watch them stick together again. "It's like a puzzle!"

Titus took it from him, experimentally taking it apart and putting it back together.

The diamond itself was a little asymmetrical, and it looked strange as one piece-- but once they were slotted together, it formed a diamond, and the carvings on the shell clasped together to make the picture of a tree.

It's a design that's only complete together.

"Is this a magnet?" Titus asked.

Cross nodded. The bear had come to his arms like a teddy bear midway through Titus' thought process. Cross squeezed it, and it growled in response.

"Takara made it. For his revibishon," Cross explained, "it looked cool, so he gave me one."

"What the hell is a revibishon," Titus muttered. "Rehabilitation? Is that it?"

Takara chuckled. "To be specific, I broke it on accident, and gave it to him," he said, raising the wooden diamond in his hand, where he was carving a bear on the side, "it was trash but he didn't want to toss it, so I decided to make it cool enough to be worth keeping."

"Here!" Cross handed Titus half of it, "I like you, so you can have the other half!"

Titus blinked.

He took it in his hand, and he was left in wonder.

Cross grinned. He was like a little kid, eager to give his precious things to his favourite people. Though it's strange he'd give it to Titus when they've only met yesterday.

Titus couldn't help but smile a little. "I'll take care of it. Thanks."

Takara hummed. "Should I carve your name on it?"

Titus flushed, "there's no need to!"

"Oh, don't be shy."

-

They carved his name on it.

-

"The compass always points North. You know which way north is?"

"The top left side of the map!"

"That's right."

Titus had his map of West Blue spread out before them. They were in Cross and Takara's boat, because it had a bigger table.

"If we compare this direction to the map, we can always tell where we are," Titus explained, "that's how I know where to go, and how long it'll take."

"I don't understand!" Cross said, proudly.

Titus blanked out for a moment. Then, "well basically, it's magic."

Takara threw his diamond at Titus, "no it isn't!!"

-

It's nighttime, and Titus took the night watch.

Captain had a significantly stranger sleep cycle than the humans, so he was awake too. He trailed around the boats, chasing after a fly.

Titus was writing in his travelogue, humming to himself.

The fly landed on Titus. Captain pounced on him. Titus screamed. His pen jumped, and it splashed right into the sea.

With a surprised squeak, Captain jumped right in after it.

And, consequently, Titus lunged for the bear.

They were dripping wet and breathing heavily by the time they made it back to the boat. Captain had his maw on the pen, and Titus had his arm around the bear.

Seriously, when did he sign up for bear babysitting duty?

He brought out a towel, and in the moonlight, he tried to dry the bear off as much as he could. The bear was like a dog, to be honest. Obedient, docile, and barked when Titus rubbed somewhere it didn't like.

Okay, he might kind of like this bear...

Captain handed Titus his pen with a cheerful little roar.

Titus had to look away.

"Stop being so cute, that's unfair."

-

Takara woke up to find Titus cuddling with the bear, the bear snoring on the man's chest, and the man looked positively disgruntled.

He took a drag of his cigarette.

"Takara, do something. Captain won't let me go," Titus pointed at the bear that was chewing at his shoulder while sleeping. "It's eating me."

"It's a he."

"He's eating me."

"Sorry, Titus," Takara told him, "Captain's decided he likes you. You know how bears are territorial and all? Well you belong to him now."

"You've got to be kidding!"

"Captain's orders, buddy," Takara told him, walking away, "alright, I'll go check the compass. Bye."

"Don't leave me here!"

-

-

Titus traveled with Cross and Takara for approximately two days in the sea. They shared sea knowledge, cooked each other's food, distributed night watches, and told stories of their ventures.

It's on that second morning that this happened.

"That's right, we're pirates! Takara said so!"

Cross took the night watch, so they laid anchor and waited the night out. Takara woke up to loud chatter.

"And we have a bear! He's Captain!" there's a 'gao!' of approval from the bear, "me and Takara raised him from when he was tinier than my hand! We have a pile of shiny stuff for him to sleep on, because he likes shiny stuff!"

Takara opens the door of the cabin, and looks straight at the hull of a huge Marine warship.

Oh. So this is what that huge shadow was.

"Cross, what is a Marine ship doing right beside our fucki--" He turned to see Cross talking with a man in a white coat, and stopped short.

That's a Marine Captain's coat.

"Oh, Takara! Good morning! Look, I was talking with this super cool bird guy, and--ow!"

Cross jerked to a stop when Takara chucked a wooden cube right at his face. It bounced off with a sharp cluck, and the Marine caught it.

"Looks like we have to re-establish the definition of the word 'lookout'," he surmised, reaching for his cigarettes but deciding against it.

The Marine laughed. "Sure you do," he said. "Your pal here was telling me one amazing story here. Mind if I ask for the details?"

There's a click, and Cross lifted his arm to find a metal handcuff hooked around it.

He stared at it. "Oops."

"Don't 'oops' me, you fucking moron!!" Takara exploded at him.

The Marine beamed. "Join me up on the ship, sir?" he asked, not as a request, but as a strictly polite order.

Takara looked around. Titus was nowhere to be seen.

"That bitch, he ditched us," he hissed.

Well, whatever.

_Huh? Where did Captain go?_

-

Titus swam under the ship, hiding at the sea-stone fin of the marine ship.

The little baby bear kicked frantically at the water, and Titus took him in his arms. They swam to the other side, and surfaced to take a breath.

Leaning close to the hull with Captain in his arms, Titus put his finger to his lips, hushing it. "Not yet, Captain," he whispered, "not yet."

The bear made a whining noise. Titus shushed it again with a dry laugh.

"Look up there, Captain," Titus pointed upward. "See that hole?"

There are plenty of gun ports around the hull, but since they weren't up against a big pirate ship, they didn't load the cannons in them. They're empty, and a perfect window for something Captain's size.

The bear nodded.

"They're all focused on the other side right now, so you can go in from here. Once you're inside, hide from the humans," Titus warned him. Then with a smile, "ready?"

The bear gave him a confused look.

Titus chucked the bear like a baseball.

-

Takara sighed at the handcuffs around his gloves. He followed the marines into the office, noticing how Cross was tugged around to sit at the side of the mast.

"Behave, Cross!" Takara hollered.

Cross pouted, "okay..."

The marines in the vicinity collectively sighed in relief when Cross allowed himself to be tied up and sat down.

Takara stopped right before entering the office. "Wait there for me, Cross," he said, "don't touch anything you shouldn't."

Cross lit up. "Okay!"

Takara entered the office, and closed the door behind him.

-

The captain of this ship is a Marine Captain called Russo. Takara sat before him, rubbing his wrists under his sleeves with gloved hands.

"So I heard you were part cyborg," Russo said pensively, "reports say your eye was glinting strangely as you ran."

"Oh, that," Takara lifted his hands and tapped at the scar on his left brow. His sclera painted black, and the gears turned in his pupil. "This, right?"

He delighted in the way the soldiers flinched backward. Russo only raised an eyebrow with interest.

"It's a fake eye. I lost it in a bombing a long time ago," Takara cheerfully explained, "you received a report that we were in Funemuri, right? I went to get this maintained." He rested his chin in his hands and smiled.

Russo's eyes twitched. Is this guy mocking him?

"Do you understand your own situation? You're getting arrested, you know?" he said, "for burning down-- Morimori Island or whatever."

"It's Moribakari."

"Yeah, this Bakabakari Island--"

"Who's the _baka_ here, you or me?"

"You, obviously-- wait, don't derail the subject!!"

"That's right, I'm the moron here. Ah, this sucks."

"You're so gloomy it's depressing."

"I mean, we've been nothing but escaping these few days. I miss freedom, it was so nice..."

"Well, that's the life of an outlaw, what can you do. Sucks to be ya, buddy, but it's our job--"

The soldier standing by the door spoke up, "sir, you've completely forgotten the point of this interrogation."

Russo exploded, "you shitty pirate!" He slammed his hand on the desk, "how dare you try and mislead the conversation!"

"So mean, I thought we were developing a friendship or something," Takara pouted.

"Enough!" Russo stood up angrily, "I've had enough of your jokes. What are your intentions, and why did you burn down your island?" he demanded, "the World Government values that forest greatly. Is it your intention to anger them?"

Russo stopped short when Takara glared at him, fierce and cold.

Then Takara breathed out slowly, spinning a coin around his knuckles.

"Do the people serve the government-- or does the government serve the people?" He flipped the coin. "It's a crisis for the entirety of West Blue. And yet-- their first concern was the presence of the two that escaped the island. The scapegoats to pin the crime onto."

"What are you trying to--"

"Now tell me, Captain Russo," Takara emphasized his words, "do you truly think the world can go on like this?"

Russo reached forward, grabbing Takara by the collar and dragging him forward. "You bastard," he hissed out the words, "do you work for the revolutiona--"

They're cut off by a wave of gunshots from outside. An explosion-- then loud yelling.

Russo's eyes widened.

He's let down his guard, so Takara twisted his arms, and the handcuffs crunched to pieces. He kept his hand at the back of Russo's neck-- and slammed his head forward in a headbutt.

Russo fell back. Takara's forehead was made with sheer steel under that skin, after all.

"No, unfortunately I don't," Takara told him, "but the idea is rather tempting at times."

Takara threw his arm back in time to block off a sword from the Marine soldier behind him. The blade lodged itself into his arm-- and the soldier yelled out in fear.

"What the hell are you?!" the handcuffs shattered, and Takara's glove fell from his sleeve. Silver shone in the light, and the soldier realized, "a metal arm?"

Takara smiled.

"I'm just a cyborg from the Reject pile, nice to meet you."

-

"Didn't they have a bear just now?" The Lieutenant of the ship asked.

_"Mister with the weird blue hair! Miiister!"_

"Y-Yes, Lieutenant Lock!" the soldier said, "but it went missing a while ago... we think it's hiding somewhere on the ship."

Lock sighed. "Nevermind then. It's just a cub," he turned to the child tied to the mast, "you've searched their boats, right?"

"Yes, we have. There should be no one on board."

_"Are you ignoring me? Heyyyy!!"_

"Good. Set the course for the nearest base, we're going to leave," Lock sent out the orders, and foot soldiers began to move. The Marine ship, with two little boats attached, set off.

_"Hey, Mister! Mister Blue!"_

"OH SHUT UP or I'll throw you overboard!" Lock whirled on the kid, currently at the peak of frustration, "the fuck do you want?!"

"Oh, so you _can_ hear me," Cross observed calmly, his hands before himself, bound by ropes at the wrist. He grinned, "nice to meet ya!"

"Nice to, absolutely not," Lock retorted, "you're a pirate and I'm a marine. In what way is this a 'nice to meet you' moment?"

Cross blinked, "but Takara said it's poright to say that when I meet new people."

"Poright-- ah, you mean _polite_ ," Lock realized. "Well, you see, that's only for people that are friendly. If you're enemies, you don't say 'nice to meet you'."

"Really? Then what do you say?"

"Uhm," Lock scratched the back of his head in consideration, "you say... 'prepare to die!' or something like that, I guess."

Cross made an understanding noise.

Then he grinned. "I'm Cross!" he said, "prepare to die!"

Right before Lock's eyes, the boy vanished.

Handcuffs fell to the floor, still locked, but the boy himself was gone. Lock's eyes widened with horror.

Behind him, a soldier cried out, a knife embedded deep in his abdomen. He fell to the ground, howling-- blood spreading out on deck.

Guns were raised, safeties thumbed off. Lock swirled around, sword drawn.

Cross had thrown the knife from his sleeve, and the blade was connected to his arm by a red thread. He stood by the bow of the ship, calmly turning around to see the soldiers.

He was still grinning when he tore the knife from the soldier's stomach, and everyone rushed to get a medic.

Cross looked over, "huh, you're still alive? Well, whatever."

"Hold your fire!" Lock yelled, raising his arm, "get the captain here, now! You fiend, how did you escape? How did you remove the handcuffs??"

Cross stepped aside to show a gleaming red handprint on the rails.

" ** _Tag-tag_** ," he said-- and just as the soldiers fired at once, he vanished again.

All bullets lodged into the side of the ship, none hitting their target. Then, from the mast behind them, Cross grinned.

" ** _Catch me if you can!_** "

"You..." Lock hissed, "what the hell are you?"

-

Titus looked through the records, and picked up the travelogue. There were also maps and records of night watch. "Oh, good. I might as well take these."

"Who's there?!"

The door slammed open, and a man raised his rifle. He wasn't wearing a soldier's uniform or a coat, but it's clear he was a Marine. Probably someone that was resting in the infirmary, judging by the bandages.

"Oh, sorry," Titus feigned a casual tone, "did I disturb your rest, sir? I was told to retrieve some documents for Lieutenant Lock. I will be on my way soon."

In the dim light, Titus faced away from the door. He wasn't wearing his hat, so perhaps the casual white button-up could make him seem like a passenger.

"Is that so?" the man challenged, "then why are the lights not on?"

Titus chuckled, rubbing the back of his head bashfully. "With all due respect, sir-- I knew where the documents were stored, and I was in a hurry..."

A knife was pointed under his chin. Titus stopped talking.

The Marine glowered fiercely.

"No marine in their right mind would call me a 'sir'," he said, "referring to superiors by their rank is common sense for petty officers. Especially when they're talking to the highest ranking officer on the ship."

Titus' lips twisted into a smile.

He lifted the stack of papers in his hand. "Then I suppose you're Commodore Dante." Unfazed by the knife under his chin, he began flipping through it. "What a coincidence. I have the detailed medical report on all your current injuries on hand!"

Gunshots ring through from above.

More soldiers rushed to the deck as reinforcements, and the lights flickered across the hall, and into the room.

Dante caught sight of Titus' face, and he backed away quickly. "Impossible!" he yelled, "why is-- why is a big name like you doing in West Blue?!"

Titus smiled.

"I'm treasure-hunting, of course."


	6. burn it all (it's a party, have fun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle on the Marine Ship.
> 
> Rookie pirates they may be, but rookie fighters they aren't. They leave as quickly as they come, but impressions stay, just a little longer.

Takara crashed against the wall.

A three-clawed hands pinned him against the wood, caving into the wall and keeping him trapped. Takara gritted his teeth.

Russo’s arm became a wing, and his claw-- the claw of a predator bird-- was disturbingly close to the man’s neck. His eyes narrowed sharply, and feathers grew from the side of his head.

“Ouch,” Takara grunted out.

Russo kept his still-human hand at his bleeding forehead and sighed. “You thought you had me, didn’t you,” he muttered, “we didn’t notice your metal arms because of your gloves, but you’ll need more of a surprise if you want to take me on.”

Takara kept an arm on the claw, gripping tightly. “A Devil’s Fruit, huh…” he said, “a Zoan, I see.”

Russo grinned. “You heard of them? This is the Tori-Tori no Mi, Model: Hawk,” he pleasantly informed, “it’s a predator.”

“And predator fruits are always dangerous,” Takara said.

“That’s it,” Russo said, “so you _do_ understand.”

There are still gunshots outside. Soldiers hollering orders. The panicked yelling is unbecoming of a marine ship-- but it’s a ship stationed in the cores of West Blue, so there’s no helping how weak-willed and inexperienced they are.

The door slams open, and a soldier comes in reporting frantically. “Captain Russo, sir!” he yelled, “the prisoner we caught, he--”

“What? Speak clearly.”

The soldier straightened, “he’s escaped and he’s running amok!”

“What?!”

Russo tightened his grip around Takara’s body. Takara winced, and both his arms curled behind him in the tightness. “Have Lock deal with it,” Russo turned back to Takara, “I have my hands full with this one.”

The soldier dismissed himself.

Takara reached for his elbows-- and with a snap, he released the buckle of his crossbow.

“No suspicious moves!” Russo warned. He lunged forward, the wall shattering and Takara howling as he sank deeper into the wood.

Takara grinned. His eye swirled into cogwheels, and a faint wave of light spilled across Russo’s body. Takara raised his foot-- and slammed it backward.

The wall behind him shattered completely, and he stepped back to more movement space. Russo, caught off guard, was not prepared for this.

Takara pulled the trigger of his crossbow, and Russo howled, an arrow embedded in his wing. Takara quickly bent down, sending a sharp elbow at the bird’s stomach, sending him buckling back.

“One word of advice,” Takara straightened, “try keeping the extent of your abilities a secret… it’s the basics of fighting with a Devil Fruit.”

“You fucker-- you had a crossbow hidden in your arm?!”

“No,” Takara pressed a button on his shoulder. “I have more.”

-

After escaping the room, Takara was on the crow’s nest.

“Man, the marine grunt rifles suck. Are these soldiers not taught how to maintain their guns? It’s the basics!”

He stole a rifle from a marine soldier. Using his thigh as a platform, he aimed straight downwards. Shooting down soldier after soldier, he took a second to reload, and continued firing.

He toyed with the trigger on his finger, wondering who he should shoot next.

Down on the deck, Cross was running around. Close-ranged as they were, they had discarded their guns and went for swords. Cross was dodging each of them easily.

Takara took a drag of his cigarette.

Then he swung back and threw an ambushing soldier back down over the crow’s nest. He sighed, watching the man yell as he went crashing back down.

“You’re breathing too loud,” he chided, though the man couldn’t hear him. “Amateur.”

He looked back down. There were about half of the original occupants left… did they go under deck? Why?

Ah, the Lieutenant is chasing Cross now. Man, that bleeding wound on the Lieutenant’s shoulder looked painful. It’s bright red against the white uniform.

Takara didn’t peg Cross for the type that knew how to use a rifle, but there it was.

Oh well, Cross can go run around if he wanted. Since the soldiers are mostly under the deck now, they could use this opportunity to run away on the boat.

“Wait,” he finally remembered. “We’re missing someone.”

Pause.

Then, “goddammit! Where the hell are those two dumbasses?!” he yelled, referring to the bear and a certain blond cowboy.

He hopped off the crow’s nest, dashing across the bow to make a round around the ship.

“It’s the other intruder!!”

“What happened to Captain Russo!?”

“Shoot! Fire at him!”

Marine soldiers started shooting at him, but they bounced off his arms and conveniently missed any parts of his torso. He bounced a little higher to dodge a blade, then continued on his way.

Now, where are they…

-

Cross shrieked. Lock threw a punch at him, and the air blistered.

“That looks really bad!” he said in alarm, frantically dodging the next punch with a sharp swerve to the right.

Lock punched the ship’s main mast, and it shattered, the base crunched to pieces, the sails coming down.

Cross paled. The fist was right beside his face, narrowly missing him. Lock had probably missed on purpose to scare him into submission.

“That’s crazy!” he squawked, “you’re destroying your own ship! Are you human?!” Lock kept a firm grip on the boy’s shoulder, and Cross gawked. “Ack, I got caught!”

“I don’t know what you did, pirate, but you’re not getting away,” he tightened his grip, and Cross cringed from the pain in his bones.

This man had an iron grip, fierce and strong and so awfully painful.

Inhumanly so.

“You’re very interesting,” Cross’ left eye flashed blue.

Lock flinched, but kept his grip firm. He kept a foot on Cross’ blades, so the boy couldn’t use them. Cross spotted it too.

“You’re out of options. Stay quiet and get back in your handcuffs--”

“Lieutenant Lock!” a soldier interrupted. Lock shot a glare at him. “There’s trouble in the basement! Commodore Dante is--!!”

The soldier was covered in blood.

“You piece of shit, you had other comrades?!” Lock tightened his grip on Cross, reaching for the boy’s head. “Send backup to the Commodore! He’s in no condition to engage a pirate!”

The Marine rushed down, scattering.

Cross stared straight at Lock, his blue eyes blinking in consideration.

“You’re a Lieutenant, huh… is that very high up? Everyone seems to be listening to you,” the boy said. “You don’t look like you have a lot of experience, though.”

Lock turned back around-- and Cross was gone. In place was one of his soldiers, and they looked fearful, howling in pain from the grip on his shoulder.

The blade was still on the floor, under his foot. Behind him, Cross held the soldier’s rifle to the Lieutenant’s back.

Lock heard the click of a safety being thumbed off.

“LIEUTENANT!!”

This gunshot was louder than the rest.

-

“This is ridiculous,” Commodore Dante hissed. He held his side, where his wound reopened. He swore.

Titus stood before him, grin on his face and hands in his pocket.

“I may be injured… but why are none of my attacks hitting you?” Dante grounded out, “you’re not using any tricks, are you?”

Titus shrugged. “I’m just lucky.”

“Stop talking rubbish--”

“Y’know, there are three things that matter the most in battle,” Titus continued talking, stepping forward.

Dante shrank back, burdened by the injury on his waist.

Titus counted off his fingers. “These three things are Power, Strategy… and Luck.” He put his hand at his chest for the last one, giving him a smile for good measure. “And I am a man that is overflowing with Luck. That is why you can’t defeat me, especially in your current state.”

Dante choked up some blood. “Utter bullshit,” he hissed, “quit looking down on me. You’re just a criminal…”

“Criminal, scriminal, you call everyone you fight a criminal,” Titus’ voice lilted, “I haven’t done anything to you yet, you know? I just came here to borrow some stuff, and suddenly, I’m getting attacked by a Commodore. And oh no, I’m evil.”

Dante raised his pistol, and fired.

Titus didn’t need to move. The bullet whizzed past his cheek, soared across his hair, and embedded into the wall. It drew no blood, just a little friction burn that barely left a mark.

“Oh, lucky me, right?” Titus teased.

Dante roared out a loud swear.

He raised the gun again, but this time, Titus grabbed his wrist.

“Hey, Commodore,” he said, “if you keep pointing that dangerous thing at me, I’m going to get angry.”

His wrist twisted, and Dante howled in pain.

“Be careful, Commodore, your wrist is still sprained,” Titus smirked playfully. He set a foot on the man’s bandaged ankle, “and if I recall, you have a fractured ankle.”

There’s a series of clicking noises.

A row of marines stand at the door, their rifles raised into the room.

“Step away from the Commodore,” the one in front ordered, voice shaking, “now.”

Titus sighed, letting go of the man and stepping away calmly. He turned his attention back to the travelogs, then faced the crowd again.

The Commodore was quickly retrieved from the room.

“Black Jack, Titus Turner-- you are under arrest!” the soldier declared.

Titus smiled. “For what?”

And the gunpowder stores blew up.

-

“Why are you still alive?!? Doesn’t that hurt?!”

“GET BACK HERE YOU FUCKING MONKEY!”

“He’s scary!!” Cross nursed a tear in his gray eyes.

Lock held his bleeding shoulder, but charged straight through any obstacles, including the mast, barrels, and other soldiers. Surprisingly, the wooden objects all but shattered on impact.

Cross wasn’t the only one squeaking in fear. Other soldiers were scrambling to get out of the way, because Lock was too angry to bother distinguishing between soldiers and wooden barrels.

Cross used the bow as a launching pad, and he hopped off in a somersault, spinning right over Lock and landing behind the Lieutenant with a satisfied huff. Then he took off running again.

Lock charged right through the side of the ship like a raging bull, and threw himself into the sea.

Everyone on the ship stopped to just take in the exasperating situation.

Then the chasing began again.

“Lieutenant!!”

“Wait, the kid’s getting away! After him!”

“The shipp!! Lieutenant broke the ship again!!”

“Forget the Lieutenant, get the kid!”

Man, these soldiers sure have tough jobs. Their Lieutenant’s an idiot.

Cross snapped his fingers, “alright then,” he blipped away. He reappeared next to the main mast, bending down to pick up his blades. “Let’s play.”

The soldiers all freeze in their tracks.

“He did it again!”

“Dammit, how is he moving so quickly?!”

“Don’t panic! There’s only one target!”

Then Takara dropped down on the bow beside them. A sense of dread quickly sank deeply in their guts, and panic ensued.

“It’s the other intruder!”

“What happened to Captain Russo?!”

Blades and guns and screaming passed around, and the two intruders locked eyes. There was no message in there, only acknowledgement.

“Captain Russo is down!”

“Dammit, where’s Lieutenant?”

“He’s on his way up!”

“The Commodore?”

“Engaging a third intruder!”

It spoke volumes how inexperienced they were, that they were panicking over three decently skilled villains on their ship.

Cross lodged one of his blades into a barrel. He tugged it forward, and with trained movements, he dragged it forward and sent it crashing right onto a few soldiers. It’s filled with water.

Takara was running across the ship, his movements heavy and clunky but he didn’t need to dodge anything-- his body itself was a shield.

Cross easily danced around the blades, completely uninjured and drawing blood after blood after blood in the span of a few seconds.

Then the deck blows up.

Takara reacted first, charging through soldiers, scooping up Cross by the shoulder, and bringing them both in a leap overboard just as the ship exploded in raging flames.

They landed heavily on their little boats, and Cross cut the strings just as Captain leapt from the ship as well, coming out from one of the gun ports around the bow. Cross lunged forward to catch the bear.

“Captain! Where were you all this time??”

The bear roared back cheerfully.

“Cross, take this! Time to row!” Takara threw an oar at the boy. “Oh, welcome back, Captain. Did you have fun?”

The bear gave another happy roar.

“I’m back,” came a voice from the sea. Titus climbed out of the sea, carrying a sack of money and pretty trinkets, “I brought your stuff for you, Captain.”

The bear hopped over happily. He couldn’t carry this by himself, so luckily, Titus was there to help.

“Where the fuck were you?” Takara asked.

“Hey, in my defense, I don’t want to get mistaken as a pirate,” Titus told him, squeezing water out of his shirt’s hem. “ _Luckily,_ ” he stressed the word, “I found Captain while swimming.”

“Don’t lie, you hid in the sea, didn’t you?” Takara hissed, “you were dead set on ditching us if you could.”

“I won’t deny that,” Titus smirked, “but luckily again, I succumbed to Captain’s cuteness. And I got some travelogues and island maps on my way out!”

“Wait, what?”

“Gimme a sec, I made sure to throw it on the boat so it wouldn’t get wet,” Titus picked up a few things that were scattered messily at the tops of the cabins, “they’re surprisingly useful, you know?”

Meanwhile, Cross stood on top of the cabin, facing the Marine ship that was slowly drifting further away from them.

“Bye-bye, Mister Lock!” he hollered, and Takara could see a raging blue-haired Marine on a raft. “I hope we meet again!”

Takara could hear a string of curses in the distance. _Ah finally, someone understands my suffering. You have my thanks Mister Lock whoever you are._

“Alright then. Hurry up, guys!” Titus ran around to his boat, “row out of the shadow of the ship! Wind is blowing in our direction, so if we’re not careful, our boat’s going to catch fire!”

Takara quickly set down and started rowing.

“Cross, stop messing around and help out!!” Then a second later, he turned to the bear that was jumping happily around his new sack of treasure. “Captain, sit down!”

-

-

“We don’t know how they did it, but they took down Captain Russo.”

“Russo… the Silverwing? You’re kidding!”

At Marine base, the commander sighed. “They found him with a hole in his gut, seared through, no signs of a projectile. No one knows how long he’ll be out of active duty now… there’s no guarantee he’ll make a full recovery.”

Captain Russo was brought in with a stretcher, but he wasn’t bleeding from his worst wound. It was burned-- staunching the wound shut, agony but not lethal.

“It’s as if something drove a burning spear through his stomach,” he said. “Though reports say the man wielded a crossbow.”

There’s a gasp.

“Yeah,” and Takara’s bounty poster is lifted to the crowd.

Takara is grinning, his hair red and blazing, his metal shoulder socket bright and strange against his human face. The scars around his discoloured eye felt more like patchwork than skin. The commander scowled.

“This guy... is very bad news.”

-

-

Lock gripped his fists, and the machine in his hand shattered into pieces.

The nurse wailed. “Lieutenant, for the _last_ time, I said _hold_ it, not crush it!”

Lock stared at the broken pieces and new splinters in his hand, as if it was the machine’s fault it just broke on him. “Uh, sorry.”

“I swear, every time you come by, you break half of the things used on you!” the nurse ranted, “syringes snap when you tense your muscles, blood pressure checkers are never accurate, heart machines are always screaming like a siren somehow!”

Lock sighed, “I’ve told you plenty of times to stop using those useless things on me.”

“They’re not useless, you mentally-stunted buffoon!” The nurse knocked him square on the head, and the occupant of the bed beside him squeaked in fear.

“They’re useless on _me_ ,” Lock nursed the new bump on his head, “you can’t gauge my vitals on the same levels as a normal human.”

He looked out the window. The nurse sighed.

His mind drifted back to Cross, the cheerful little kid that actually said goodbye to him, as if they were friends. “Seriously, what was _wrong_ with that kid?”

_I hope we meet again, huh._

He leaned against the windowsill. In his lap is Cross’ wanted poster. Though Lock only remembered his cheerful, wide grin, the poster is nothing like it.

In the picture, Cross had a visor hat tilted over his left eye, and he’s frowning at something behind the camera. Lock remembered seeing that hidden eye glow blue-- but surely, that was a trick of the light, wasn’t it?

“Next time we meet… I’ll capture you for sure.”


	7. hurricane hole (see you when the sun's back)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thrown off-course from the scuffle, they drift. 
> 
> Cast astray by a wild storm, they come across an island that once forsook the world.
> 
> Separated, injured, with a storm on their backs-- there's nowhere they can run.

Titus is soaking wet and seething in pure unadulterated _fury_.

“Now listen here boys, and I’ll only say this once.”

Takara and Cross were both on their knees. Titus is sitting on the cabin just to be higher than them, his arms crossed and his face twisted in the most disappointed frown in the world.

Takara looked away in shame.

“Jump into the sea one more time,” Titus hissed, “and I’ll _make_ sure you drown.”

Takara and Cross felt shivers down the entirety of their spines. They straighten immediately, bowing down low with sincere and regretful apologies. “Yes, sir!”

Captain was confused, so he just rawred in agreement.

Titus dried Cross’ hair while Takara patted himself down, trying to get water out of his metal parts with extra care.

“So Cross ate a Devil’s Fruit?” Titus asked, “the Tag-Tag fruit. What does it do?”

“I can whoosh here and there as long as I’ve touched it!” Cross said, brightly, without making a single lick of sense.

“Is that so? Cool,” Titus said. Then he turned to Takara. “Translation, please?”

“He marks a spot,” Takara pointed at a red handprint at the side of the cabin that looked like someone covered their hand in red paint and high-fived the wall, “and as long as he can see it, he can come here immediately. It gets washed once it rains, though.”

“Ah. I see.” Titus now understood. He let Cross go and run off with the bear, and then turned to the redhead. “So why can’t _you_ swim?”

Takara stared at him like he was an idiot, “dude, I weigh at least two tonnes.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Titus stood up.

“Why the hell were you two playing pirate when _neither of you can swim_?!” he yelled, bonking them over the head once again.

“But Captain can swim!” Cross said, brightly.

“HE’S A BEAR!!”

-

-

Titus entered the cabin.

There’s only one bed, so Takara and Cross were curled around together. Cross had Captain in his arms, and he was leaning into the man’s chest.

Though Takara was snoring as if he were fast asleep, there was an arm propped up at his side for his head to rest on, and he was more upright than laying down.

Titus blew out a drag of his cigarette.

“Man, they’re just like a family.”

Looks like he’ll have to keep watch a little longer.

-

-

“You bastard, you stole my cigs, didn’t you?!” Takara accused, holding up his packet of King Ground cigarettes. “I never said I was sharing!”

“One cig in exchange for taking your night watch,” Titus bargained, blowing out a gust of smoke at Captain, who coughed and then yipped offendedly.

“Wake me up for it instead!”

“Don’t wanna.”

Takara threw his hands up in defeat.

Titus sighed. The Marine ship had thrown them off course, so now it was going to take longer to find their way back to Vetar. What a pain…

So he left the course to Takara, and resumed sorting through the treasure. He held up a tiny little crown that was decorated with jewels-- and he put it on Captain’s head. Captain looked pleased.

Most of it was money in cash. This bear really knew what to get…

There weren't a lot of ornaments, but seeing as they were on a Marine ship, it made sense that they wouldn’t have anything valuable enough to be worth stealing. There were bracelets and little necklaces and some expensive-looking things like a pocket watch, but that was it.

“Guess I’ll split the loot on a fifty-fifty.”

Captain bit him. Titus squeaked, quickly batting him away.

“What, you want a portion too??” Titus sounded so scandalised, “heck, you can understand me? For real? You greedy bear…”

Captain barked at him. Then again. And again.

Titus winced, blocking him with his hands. “Okay, okay.”

-

“Here’s our money stores, and that’s Captain’s bed. If you want to steal from us, you steal from the money stores, not the bed.”

“You’re expecting me to steal from you?” Titus stared incredulously. He’d stolen from ships before, but this is the first time he was given a straight-up invitation and even house rules to obey.

What was the definition of ‘steal’ again?

Takara rolled his eyes, “just in case. I don’t care if we lose cash, I’m just worried Captain will be missing his treasure bed, and then he’ll start crying. You do not want to be anywhere around when Captain’s crying for real.”

Titus groaned. These two were spoiling that bear rotten.

“I’ll consider it the next time I ditch you two on the sea somewhere.”

“Hey.”

“Takara! Takara!” Cross’ head was suddenly at the window, upside down from the cabin. “The sky is weird! The sky is weird!”

“Stop repeating yourself, you’re not a parrot,” Takara said, then, “wait, what?!”

The two adults charged out of the cabin.

Titus saw the sky once, and cursed. The clouds churned a dangerous grey, thick and already curling with lightning at its core. His eyes widened with a sudden startling realization--

“Storm! Bad!” he hollered, snapping toward the figure on the roof of the cabin. “Cross, tie up the sails! Takara, get the oars!”

Titus clambered back to his own ship, hopping up the cabin and getting himself to the sails. They would make this barely. Man, if only he could ditch one of these boats.

“Captain, get inside the cabin!” Titus yelled.

The bear was excited by the activity, hopping and cheering about. At the sudden address, he paused, confused. Then a huge gust of wind carried him right off.

Everyone shrieked, eyes popping out in horror, “CAPTAIN?!?”

There’s a shocked silence. Then, chaos.

“TAKARA! CAPTAIN WENT FLYING!”

“WHAT?!”

“AAAHHh!!! TITUS GET HIM BACK!”

“CAPTAAAAINN!!”

All three were panicking. Even Titus was just screaming, because the bear was getting tinier and tinier in the distant horizon.

Then Titus stopped.

In the distance, where Captain was sent flying-- though it was foggy, he could see the faint silhouette of an island.

“It’s an island!!” he hollered, “it’s not far away! We’re going there!”

“What?!” Takara yelled back, “we don’t even know where we are! Who knows what island that is!”

“With luck, it could be Ohara remnants!” Titus argued, “our boats can’t handle a storm like this! We just need a bit of dry land to ride it out, and we’ll be fine!”

Takara tutted. “We won’t make it with just the oars!”

“Well what, you got a jet engine we can use to go faster?!” Titus snapped.

“He does!”

“You do?!”

The boats were tied together by a hook and a rope.

Takara stood between the boats, and he pressed a button in his shoulder. His palm opened up, revealing a small cannon in his metal forearm.

“Alright, loosen the nozzle,” he adjusted some rinds around his wrist, “power to twenty, alright. Here we go…”

And his arm fired out like a cannon, a deep red blast like a flamethrower. He’s pushed back, and the boat soars out of the air for two seconds before skidding forward at top speed.

“Holy crap he does!”

Titus grits his teeth against the cabin, holding on desperately. They lost an oar in the process, but they had a wind now.

“Wait, Titus! Takara’s gone!”

“WHAT?!”

“He got sent flying with that just now!”

“You’re kidding!”

Cross was probably not kidding. Which meant this was a whole new form of worst case scenario. Takara was going to drown, Captain might just fly into the Grand Line or whatever, and there’s a storm behind them.

“Alright Cross, here’s the plan,” TItus breathed out slowly, keeping his calm.

Cross turned to him, serious.

“We’re going to keep heading for the island,” he said, and Cross nodded. That made sense. “As for Takara and Captain…” there’s a tense pause. “I don’t know, we’ll make a grave or whatever.”

“NO, SAVE THEM!”

-

-

Impossible things certainly are impossible, so first of all, they focused on getting out of the storm.

Fortunately, they had good wind and heavy cargo, so they made it to shore before the lightning shattered or overturned their boats.

In the heavy rain and raging waves, They all but leapt off their boats, binding it tight to a pole in the little cavern just out of the roughest waves.

“Looks like this was a port island,” he said, “thank goodness this island had a hurricane hole.” When Cross looked at him curiously, Titus explained, “Uhh, you know how donuts have holes? Some islands have holes in the center too. The waves are lighter there, so people go there when there’s a storm. That’s where we are now.”

Titus finished anchoring the boat, tying up the sails, and making sure their treasure was out of the waterlogged flooring whilst keeping the boat as balanced as it could.

Seeing how far under ground level the cavern was, this place must have been abandoned for a long time.

Maybe this island was Vetar, or Toroa.

Or maybe it was…

“Who’s there?”

They both swirled around quick, defensively poised to the figure in the shadows.

Titus let out a sigh of relief when the figure was just a boy around Cross’ age, holding a lamp and donning a raincoat, looking as surprised to see them as they were to see him.

_Pure white hair_ , Titus breathed out, unable to hide his surprise.

Cross hopped to shore, tearing off his hoodie to wring it dry. He approached the strange with all the innocence of someone with no self-preservation nor suspicions, and smiled. “Hi, nice to meet you! I’m Cross!”

And the stranger took a step back, alarmed.

Titus quickly fixed the issue. “We’re really sorry if this place is a private area. We were caught up in the storm and lost a few companions to the waves. Would you let us stay until the sea is calm enough to set out again?”

The stranger loosened just a little, but his face was still tight with suspicion.

“This island is off limits to outsiders,” the boy says, apprehensive. “But if you stay here… you’ll catch colds.” On cue, Cross sneezed.

The boy lifted his lamp a little higher, but kept his hood on.

“Come to my house. You can dry off there.”

Titus hung back just a second longer. _This island is off limits, but come on to my house?_ Yeah, right. No fucking way was this safe.

“My name is Nozomu,” the boy said, raising his arm. “It is… nice to meet you as well.”

Titus spotted his strange clothing-- long, satin robes. Fishnet. Arm guards-- He’d seen those clothes just once before, in a distant land far into the Grand Line.

Oriental clothing native to the land of Kiku. And that name...

_Oh no._

“Cross!” Titus yelled, panicking a little more than tactically recommended. Cross stiffened a little at the tone. “Get back over here!”

They’re in Shikke Island.

Any real information about this island was cut off twenty years ago, when they were plunged into a major civil war and outsiders were no longer tolerated.

Sensing the emergency, Cross stepped toward Titus, only to freeze in his spot when a kunai was placed under his neck, the vertex pointedly placed at his chin.

There were at least three more cloaked figures now, emerging from the shadows of the cavern.

Titus took another moment to realize he, too, was trapped. A figure behind him had a shuriken to his spine. Not to attack-- just to threaten into surrender.

“Shikke Island is a hidden village,” Nozomu walked up to Titus, his tone stern and threatening, “the only ones capable of even _finding_ this island has to be a Clan member.”

Titus gripped his fists. “We found this place in the eye of the storm. It was only a coincidence.”

Nozomu closed his eyes, and sighed.

“Perhaps Elder Yuzen will humour your excuses,” the boy said. He pulled his hood back over his head, and the three cloaked figures seized Titus and Cross by the arms.

“Wait--!”

Cross looked at Titus, but the blond shook his head as a sign of _don’t fight them_. They had treasure on the boat, a storm behind them, and two comrades missing in the sea. 

They have nowhere to run to.

-

-

Takara was being dragged around by the waves.

He was too heavy to swim, but that did not particularly mean he didn’t know _how_ to.

The weight a brace against the waves, he fired another beam underwater, just to give himself the boost he needed to snatch the drowning bear out of the sea, into his arms.

One problem solved.

Then he slams against wooden debris, his foot is caught between stone and the side of an island scrapes against his side. He loses the breath in his lungs, and chokes out a strangled sob as deep red burns through his side.

But it’s shore. He hit it and probably cracked a few important things, but it’s okay, the vital parts are metal and they don’t break.

It hurt like hell. Almost as much as getting impaled but about a few times worse or-- what the hell is he trying to compare, anyways? God oh god this hurt.

He was going to fucking die here and it’d be because Captain was a stupid bear and decided to have goddamn joyride through a typhoon’s air currents.

He grabbed at the sharp point of the rock before he was thrown further into the hellhole of a current.

He gritted his teeth until his lips bled, holding the bear close to his chest.

It’s okay. He can do this. His arms are made of metal. There was no pain to worry about, even if he knows the rocks are digging dangerously through his metal fingers and threatening to blow off a couple metal plates.

It’s okay, he can do this. He has to do this.

He’s done this before, and back then, his arms were made of flesh.

He managed to get Captain up on shore first, the bear coughing and hacking and weak. He rubbed it soothingly, scraping his metal knees as he clambered up, throwing up a mouthful of seawater before laying on the ground, breathing.

Somehow, they made it to the island.

He collapsed, the seawater eating into his limbs and the blood loss gnawing at his side. There’s a wheeze in his breath, and his mind was hazy. There was a forest before him, and darkness everywhere else.

_As long as they were safe_ … he collapsed and blacked out.

Not quite away from the storm, and the two weakly breathing figures slept, slowly dying.

A figure came forth from the woods, clad in sandals and a thick raincoat.

Phosphorus white threads dance at their fingertips, and they approach.


	8. underground (behind every light, shadows)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takara meets a girl with hair as white as snow, and a community under the ground that lives in the shadows.
> 
> Titus and Cross are captured, but escape comes easy. Too easy.

When Takara woke up, it was to the gentle thrumming of the rain and the soft humming of a girl beside him. 

He got up with a start, drenched in not water, but his own sweat.

He rubbed circles at his temple, catching his breath and trying to ease the headache rising. Then he took in the situation. He felt like he was forgetting something...

"Good morning."

He jolted to attention, jerking away from the girl that had been sitting on a chair beside the bed.

She didn't look that much older than Cross, and she had a head of pure white hair, hanging just above her shoulders. That was a very, very rare hair color now... but twenty years ago, a certain island was teeming with white-haired individuals.

_Shikke Island._

Captain was in her lap, purring softly as the girl rubbed its back gently.

That's when Takara remembered, and quickly drew the covers away from him.

His metal arms were still scraped, along with a few joints-- but nothing was out of place. The deep, running gash at his side was gone.

Completely gone, though he could vividly remember the impact and the agony.

"What the..." he touched it lightly. It felt sort of raw, like new skin. "What the hell...?"

The girl smiled.

She was wearing dark blue, oriental clothing-- like a ninja.

That's right... Shikke was an offshoot of the country of Kiku, wasn't it?

"I see... we ended up in Shikke Island," he understood immediately. He tightened his fists, "I'm really grateful for your help."

The girl waved at him dismissively, "please, it's fine," she assured him, "I couldn't leave you out there when you were bleeding to death."

But how did she deal with his injury? _This level of recovery..._

"How long have I been asleep?" Takara asks. There were no windows in this room, but he could hear the rain. This is bad. If this really was Shikke Island, they have to get out of here quickly.

Shikke was not a friendly island. The bartender in Mug Island even warned him about this, and goddamn, he ended up here after all. He wondered if Titus and Cross were alright.

"For about two hours," the girl informed him. She stood up and deposited the bear in the man's hands. "You should leave the island as soon as you can. If the citizens on the mainland find you here, you will not be able to leave alive."

Takara was handed his coat, then a raincoat.

"Fortunately, it seems there are intruders in the Hurricane Hole, so there are less guards here," the girl said, and Takara's eyes widened in alarm. "We can lend you a boat. The rain hasn't quelled much, but you should be able to escape to Toroa, just a little northwest of here..."

"We can't!" Takara interrupted her.

The girl sighed.

"Those intruders on the other side of the island are probably my comrades," Takara insisted. "I need to meet up with them."

He stood up, but the girl put a hand before him, stopping his advance.

"You may not," she said, firm. "The Yuzengumi do not tolerate intruders. If you do not wish to die with your other friends, I suggest you treasure your own lives and leave right now."

Takara's fist tightened. "I regret to say this after you saved my life, but I cannot abandon my comrades like this. Let me through."

"No, I will not," and the girl flexed her fingers.

White thread spilled from her palm, thick and viscous-- and the strings pooled behind her, splashing forth against wall and shelf and table, forming a gigantic spider web to seal off the only way out of the room.

Well fuck. _What the fuck is that? A Devil's Fruit?_

"If you insist on leaving to your death, I believe it is logical I stop you," the girl said, "I am a Healer. I did not save you for you to go and kill yourself here."

Takara tutted.

Holding the bear close to his chest, his eyes darted around. There were no windows here, and the walls were made of stone. Wherever he was... he wouldn't be able to run easily.

This wasn't a prison cell. There was a nice bed, a messy closet, and a myriad of pillows and hammocks and fresh tea on the desk. Evidently, people have lived here.

And yet, there were no windows in this room.

"Where am I?" Takara asked instead. "If my presence here is such a nuisance... why haven't you handed me in yet?"

The girl set a hand on her hip, stepping slightly forward.

"We would gladly hand you over if we could..." she said, "but as you know, we had a civil war twenty years ago. This is the base of the citizens left over from then. We're the Rebel Army."

-

Titus and Cross were brought before an elderly man, pushed onto their knees on dojo wooden flooring.

"So these two are the intruders," the gray-haired man says. He wore long traditional garb, complete with a haori and an air of seniority. He held a long wooden walking stick, resting his hands upon them.

"Hey, Mister!" Cross greeted with all the brim and cheer unbefitting of this solemn atmosphere. "I'm Cross!" then he turns to Titus, struck with a question, "is this a Nice to Meet You or Prepare to Die?"

Titus was physically hurting from second-hand-embarrassment.

"Just... shut up, Cross," he managed.

Their hands were bound in tight rope behind them, arms folded at their elbows. It wouldn't be easy to get out.

Titus looked up. This place was the city hall, probably. Not the royal palace or anything... there were artistic paintings on the wall, ancient signatures, and even carefully maintained pottery.

From his treasure-hunting experience, Titus knew that those things had sacred historical value. Not much worth in gold, but more precious than the greatest treasures in a museum. In the right auctions, they could earn you a fortune.

If they were using this place as an interrogation room, maybe they didn't care if those things were damaged? That made no sense.

"I am Yuzen, the current ruler of this island," the old man introduced himself, apprehensively. "State your business on this island."

"Like I said, we were just seeking refuge from the storm--"

Titus was interrupted by a sharp sword knocking his side. He was shoved to the ground, and a sword planted by his head.

"Who sent you?" Elder Yuzen rephrased.

God, they were listening to absolutely no reason.

"This is a misunderstanding," Titus said, his patience waning just so slightly, "we were just desperate to leave the storm. We had no idea this was Shikke Island..."

A foot came down on his face, grinding to the ground sharply. At the same time, a blade was thrown forward, leaving a deep cut at Titus' shoulder.

He hissed in pain.

Titus glared up at the assailant. The purple-haired ninja grinded his teeth against a silver steel pick, rolling it against his tongue with a snarl.

"The facts this time?" he suggested.

Titus gritted his teeth, trying not to get angry.

"There is nothing else I can say," Titus said. He looked up-- and Cross was staring blankly at him, not an ounce of tension in his limbs.

Strange. Titus expected him to blow up already-- maybe Titus meant less to him than he thought.

Cross isn't moving at all. And those aren't seastone... Cross should be able to get out immediately and run (tag) off, untraceable in seconds. But he didn't.

Why?

"You have golden hair," Elder Yuzen observed, "and that boy has black hair. Both startlingly common colours, so I suspect either one of you is a spy, or both of you are."

What does hair colour have to do with this...

 _Come to think of it, everyone here has red or blue hair..._ Titus groaned. _That's right. The Shikke used to boast of their unique black and white palettes._

White was sacred, and Black was balance. The civil war happened to decide which colour deserved to rule the country.

But all these people had neither black or white hair.

(Except the first boy that greeted them in the Hurricane Hole.)

 _Does that mean these people aren't the Shikke of twenty years ago?_ Something doesn't line up. _They're expecting to be attacked?_ Sure, tensions are high during wartimes, but this is just ridiculous.

"We searched the ship and seized the treasure," a burgundy-haired boy came in with a report. "There's nothing else in their ship that's indicative of their affiliation with Kiku, but there is a suspicious travelogue."

Titus jerked up, "don't touch that!"

That was the wrong reaction. A glimmer of interest and realization passed through their eyes, and Elder Yuzen turned to the newcomer.

"Ibuki, bring it to the scholars. We'll decode it soon."

Titus swore in his head. These absolute asshats are just filling in the details of whatever the hell they want to believe! What's wrong with not wanting a bunch of old fools to look at his private jottings?

"Bring these two to the gallows," he ordered.

There's surprisingly little resistance from Cross, and they're thrown behind bars, arms bound and lock clasped tight against steel.

Titus breathes out another low swear as they march off, leaving them to the empty, lamp-lit hallways of jail.

Titus inspected the still-bleeding wound at his shoulder, decided he wouldn't bleed to death from it, and turned to Cross.

The kid had shifted to cross his legs over each other, sitting comfortably in the darkness, like he was waiting for instructions.

"We need to get out and find Takara and leave," Titus muttered. "Cross?"

Cross finally lifted his head, straightening to attention.

"Can you use your powers to get yourself out of the cell?" Titus asked.

Cross shook his head. "I didn't tag anywhere, so I can't tag out," he explained.

Titus raised an eyebrow. "Then why didn't you tag somewhere earlier while we were captured?"

Cross blinked up at him, "Takara said I can't use my powers without his permission."

Titus all but fell forward with exasperation. Are you kidding me? This situation and the first thing on the kid's mind is the fact that he hasn't asked for permission yet??

"Look, Takara might be dead for all we know. We need to get out and regroup, okay?" Titus tried to reason. "I'm sure Takara wouldn't mind you breaking it just this once."

Cross pouted, "I can't! It was a promise!" he whined, "promises have to be kept even when the other person can't see it! Because it's important!"

Titus had no idea why the kid was being so defensive over something so little.

He groaned.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," he placated with a sigh. "Then do whatever you want, can you get us out of this cell?"

The next thing Titus knew, he heard sharp cracks, and Cross had shattered the wooden shackles on his wrists. Titus' jaw dropped.

His light blue hoodie had been taken out when they were strip-searched, so Cross was left in his tank top and shorts. Titus had also lost his weapons when they pried off his coat and left him in a miserably drenched button-up and pants.

Yet, somehow, Cross reached into his hair and retrieved his triangular blades, connected by red wires. He strapped the spindle back on his elbows, wrapping them around his forearm.

"What the fuck?" Titus asked.

Cross stared back, confused, "what's wrong?"

"Uh no, nothing," he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He raised his still-bound arms, "break these for me, please."

-

Takara was brought further underground, where he met with a crowd of people, all wearing oriental clothing.

Everyone had black hair except the Healer girl.

"Twenty years ago, a civil war happened within the Abenogumi," the girl explained. "Well, no one can clearly remember who won, because the Yuzengumi came right in and took over our land while everything was going on."

They were all young. Around their early to late twenties, at best.

"The rebel army," Takara considered that. "So you're what's left of the Abenogumi?" It made sense.

Living underground and in hiding, away from the cretins that took over the mainland. This creates social unrest, which is why Shikke is still not open to outsiders coming in or leaving.

They're twenty years in the cores of a double-layered war that just can't end until one side is completely decimated. God, they chose a shitty island to drift to.

"I am the current leader of the rebel army," the girl said, "please call me Visul."

She didn't particularly look strong.

She was the youngest person in the room, but the mere fact that she had pure white hair made her the leader of the pack.

She was flanked on each side by stern-looking men with black hair, both holding swords at their hips in case Takara tried anything.

Visul caught his gaze and put a hand on the two beside her. "These two are Yukimatsu," she gestured to the left, "and Hirotsugu. They're Commanders. Don't worry, they don't bite."

Well, they certainly are trying their best to look like they do.

Wisely, Takara stayed still and looked as harmless as he could with a pair of metal arms and a sleeping bear cub in his arms.

"I am Takara," he gulped. "Nice to meet you, I hope."

"It'll be nice if you stay down here and don't move," Yukimatsu growled at him, bristling as he took one angry step forward. "Of all the times you guys could choose to get lost in sea, you decide now? I swear if I weren't--"

Yukimatsu is dragged back by the collar. Hirotsugu sat him down with one chiding glare, "calm down already, Yuki. The storm is always nasty anyways."

"Oh, you're called Yuki?" Takara decided to test his luck, "that's cute, even though you look so constipated. Can I call you Yuki?"

"NO!" the boy snapped, then he swirled on his pal, "Hiro, he's gonna ruin everything! We spent years planning this and--"

"Ooh!" Takara interrupted, "you're Hiro? That's such a cool name. Hey, Hiro, nice to meet you," he smiled. Gesturing at the bear in his arms, "this is Captain. We named him Captain because he wanted to be called something cool."

"Really? That's cute," Hiro steps forward, right past the feral child Yuki, with all the air of friendliness, "y'know, Takara, I think you and I will absolutely get along. Let's talk over there, shall we?"

"Oh, absolutely," Takara followed him to a table, where they sat down on opposing sides, a cup of tea in each of their hands.

Yuki snapped. "HEY! Hiro! Don't get chummy with the intruder!!"

Just then, the bear woke up.

"Captain!" Takara rubbed his face gently, "good morning, you stupid bear. Please stay in the cabin when there's a storm out from now on. If you do it again you're going into stew, got it? I'll stew the heck out of you and make your skin a rug."

The bear made a grunt of affirmation, shivers running down his spine. He absolutely did not want to go on a freedom flyaway ever again.

Then Captain looked around, confused. He made a questioning rawr at Takara.

"Hm? Ah," he put the bear on the table, "we got separated from the others. This is Hiro. Say hi."

And Captain said hi, raising a paw with a cheerfully polite, "rawr!"

Immediately, the room converged on them.

"He's so cute!!"

"Is his name Captain?"

"Fluffy!"

"How old is he?"

Immediately, there's a fan club. A bunch of the other rebellion members crouch around them, getting to know the newcomers like this was the time or opportunity to make friends or something.

Yuki was right about to blow up there.

Visul giggled at the sight.

"This isn't the time to laugh, Leader," Yuki chided her, "we need to go plan our next course of action, you know that, right?"

Visul smiled. "I know, Yuki," she said, turning to the crowd. "But it's been awhile since we were this lively. Let them enjoy this."

Yuki pursed his lips. She was right, so he just sighed and watched the crowd pass the bear around in adoration.

"At least for now, that man has to stay here," Visul told him.

Her hands tightened on the table, and she looked away.

"The Yuzengumi are at an all-time alert due to their current group of intruders, so we shouldn't make any careless moves. But if this man goes and complicates things, we won't be able to go and save Nozomu," she said, under her breath, "gather the others. Hiro will make sure he stays."

And she walked away towards a room further out back, casually walking to not attract attention from the fun-loving group in the centre of the room.

Takara may not have a good nose, but he certainly has good ears.

Hiro kept him occupied with nonsense talk, and everyone seemed like an expert at making him stay in his seat.

Takara was quite impressed. So impressed, he decided to stay there.

If they were right about this, then going out now would be an ill decision for the situation. Well, Cross and Titus probably won't die if he left them outside.

But as he looked around, he felt old.

"Hey, Hiro..." he leaned forward, "how old are you?"

Hiro chuckled, "I'm twenty-five," he said. "Or it was, last time I checked. It is, right?" he turned to the girl beside him, who giggled a little. "I don't know, I just know I'm the oldest here and I can't stop getting older! Oh man, am I gonna get gray hairs?"

The crowd chuckled at that, some people teasingly calling him an old man, and someone else reminding him that Abeno recessive genes mean his hair stays black for life-- Takara laughed along, but the humour was gone.

He's twenty-five. _Twenty-five_ and that's not that much younger than Takara himself. He's a kid. He's just a fucking _kid_. And yet-- yet he was here, at the core of a revolution.

Everyone here is younger than him?

That meant that all of them-- all of them were part of the generation that didn't start, but merely _inherited_ the war.

They shouldn't have the reason to continue it.

And yet...

"Why do you fight?" he asked, and the room went silent.

All eyes on Takara were stern and scrutinizing, and it was now evident that all the previous cheer was just a carefully crafted front.

Hiro looked at him, and that smile was tinged with determination.

"It's because we have nothing else."

There were young people in the room, but there was not a single child in their midst.


End file.
